


Distance Yawns

by pinkshadow147



Series: The Pines Twins [3]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: (whispers) ... salamander?, Adding major character death, An entire chapter of PURE - flashback FLUFF, Angst, Cube thing, Death, Eye-patch Stanley, Fluff, Fourth Dimension, Gen, Glass Shard Beach, Math insults, Mental Instability, Military base, Needles, Otherworld politics, Plans for the ending probably include major character death qualifications, Possession, The Nightmare Realm (Gravity Falls), Torture, blind faith au, college party, mindscape, mixed with angst should theorectically make angst worse, puking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 00:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 60,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9466703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkshadow147/pseuds/pinkshadow147
Summary: Six months apart is a long time. Six months can feel like an eternity. But Stan and Ford are back together again.For Ford, that means the world can go back to being right. It means the last few months of fighting to keep his sanity can fade away like a distant dream. Maybe, like Stanley always says, everything will finally be okay.For Stan, that means they need to talk. They REALLY need to talk. But Stanley isn't sure he can. He's already made so many mistakes. Can his brother really handle one more?For Bill, that means an opportunity he isn't willing to pass up.





	1. Chapter 1

_ When _

"Okay, just give me one second I'll be right back,"

"Okay,"

He heard Stan walked away as the girl he was talking to stood alone, fiddling with her costume. Ford smiled and stepped out from behind a wall.

"Hey I'm back,"

The girl nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Wha - you - but you just - ," she looked over her shoulder where Stan had disapeared. She pointed between him and the empty air behind them. "How'd you do that?"

Ford shrugged.

"Magic? Yeah. I'm magic," he grinned under his mask. Stan was right, this was fun.

"Whoa," she breathed. "That's amazing. Err, I mean. Not that I actually believe you're magic or anything, but that's a pretty good trick. Who'd you say you were? I can't tell under your mask. Halloween is all like, this one big Cinderella story, you know?"

He gave a nervous laugh.

"Yep. Right," he looked around. "But, um. I really did have to do that thing. You know, the thing?"

She nodded.

"Punch? You were getting us punch?"

He nodded.

"Ah, yes! Punch. So uh, just - stay here. I'll be right back with some drinks," he turned around and walked back behind the wall.

A few second later he heard Stan walk up.

"Hey, I'm back. Again,"

She jumped a second time.

"Oh!"

Stan laughed.

"You should see your face,"

"He do you _do_ that? That's amazing!"

"Yeah. Here's some punch,"

She laughed and he could feel Stan's smile growing bigger along with Ford's own. Halloween _could_ be fun.

Stan talked with her some more while Ford leaned against the other side of the wall listening to the dance music streaming out of the gymnasium. He was content to stay hidden. He hadn't really wanted to come to this school sponsored activity anyways, but Stan had convinced him to pull off some holiday pranks and he had relented.

Finally Stan came over, the girl having walked off somewhere else.

"Ha! Worked like a charm Sixer," he rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm for Ford to see.

Ford looked at the 10 digit code written there in marker.

"Wait ... Was this to 'pick up chicks'?"

Stan laughed.

"Of 'course not, but if it was - it worked great!"

Ford put a hand to his face.

"I should have known. Is it too much to hope for some simple fun? You know. No ulterior motives or anything on the side?"

Stan shrugged.

"Here, listen Sixer. I saw this girl in some sort of super hero costume. Help me out and I'll totally let you eat my Halloween chocolate,"

"Stan you can't - ,"

"No, no. I insist,"

"No. You _can't_ because you already ate it all. And you already ate all of _mine_ too,"

Stan gave a sheepish grin.

"Oh, hehe. I did, didn't I?"

Ford rolled his eyes.

"Listen Stan. This was fun and all. Really it was. But I think I wanna go home now,"

"What? We just got here like, a half hour ago,"

"I know. But I wanna go now,"

"Pff," he dismissed Ford with a wave of his hand. "Lame. You can go walk home if you like. I'm staying here,"

" _Stan_ ,"

"Sixer, parties are _fun_. Don't be a buzzkill,"

"You know what? Fine. I'll head to the library. See if it's open - ,"

"It is. Bunch a nerds are all nesting round there. Actually ... you should probably stay away. I heard some guys say there were gonna get the drop on 'em. Hmm. I think I might join that actually,"

Ford sighed.

"Look. I'll be around k? Don't leave without me. Find me whenever your ready to leave. I just," he looked over Stan's shoulder at the hundreds of dancing teens in the gym. He grimaced. "This is just a little too much stimulation for my preferences. But _don't_ leave without me,"

Stan rolled his eyes.

"Yeah alright. Whatever Mr. Anti-social awkward weirdo,"

" _Stan_ ,"

"Heh. I'll catch you later," he turned and left.

Ford watched him go. Watched him _whoop_ when a song he liked came on. Watched the kids around him roll their eyes.

Ford turned around and headed into the hall.

He went to the library, and found Stan had been right. It was open, but full of a dozen or so students quietly reading to themselves. It was a cozy atmosphere. Ford felt tempted to pick a book and stay, but Stan's warning echoed in his mind. He should probably tell the others there about it. Standing by and letting it happen would be just as bad as participating himself.

"Hey, Pines,"

He turned, surprised that anyone could recognize him in his outfit.

"There you are. Don't tell me you're getting a head start without us,"

A trio of guys came walking up, each in separate costumes. He didn't recognize their voices, so he didn't think he knew them.

"Err ... start what?"

"Hah! Yeah, well. Hey me and the guys were thinking of heading toward Cliffpoint. Come with us,"

Ford stepped back.

"Uhh - no thanks. I think I'll just stay here,"

"What, you got some place to be?"

"No, but - ,"

The three of them grabbed his sleeves and pulled him along.

"Well then alright, we're going,"

"Wha - _wait_ \- ,"

Another one laughed at his reluctance.

"Hey come on dude. It'll be great,"

"Yeah, and I heard Aden will be there with the Pitt girl,"

"Hah! That idiot,"

Ford struggled weakly against their grip.

"No, I - I really am okay. I'm not - ,"

They managed to drag him all the way out to the front of the school. He really was trying to get free, but they seemed to think he was playing some kind of joke. It turned into a sort of wrestle match, with Ford halfheartedly fighting to get away.

 _This is why_ _I_ _don't_ _come to_ _thes_ _e things_.

They dragged him all the way into a car and that's when he drew the line.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Alright that's enough. I - I left my brother inside. If I don't get back to him - ,"

"What, that nerd?"

"Come on Stanley, who needs him?"

_What?_

"Yeah. I heard you say just last week, all about how 'that skinny nerd 's sooo booooring'. And how he's all 'nerd stuff this' and 'science that',"

"You're way cooler,"

"That dude really needs to lighten up,"

"Or at the very least get that stick outta his - ,"

"E-e-enough!" Ford was mortified. Under his mask his whole face was turning pink.

They thought he was Stanley. He needed to get out of here.

"I - I'm not - ,"

He was interrupted when they grabbed him by his head and shoved him into the car.

"Hey - !"

They all got in. The driver started the car and they pulled out of the school.

"Guys, seriously this isn't - ,"

"Music anyone?"

"Oh, yeah!"

"Turn on the radio!"

The radio was turned on and blasted through the car speakers. Ford wrinkled his nose.

_Stan needs better friends._

"Hey, Stanno - what song you want?"

Ford leaned forward.

"I'm not - ," 

"No, No! Turn it back! I like this one!"

Ford let out a sigh. He tried one more time.

"Guys! Hey! I'm not - ! Guys, listen!"

No one payed him any attention. Ford growled in frustration, but no one heard him over the music.

Stan really needed better friends.

***

"Ford? Hey, you in here?" Stan looked around.

The 11th grade Chem lab was just as empty as the rest of the school. Stan had looked everywhere. All of Ford's favorite places. Stan's too. He couldn't find his brother.

_Did he leave without me?_

Stan dismissed that thought. Home was at least an hour's walk away. Stan snorted. Ford wouldn't risk it. It was getting to be winter. Who was anyone kidding? This was the guy who repeatedly failed gym class. Stan didn't even know how that was possible. 90% of the grade came from bogus participation points.

_Maybe he got a ride?_

But from who? And why would he leave without him when he'd been so insistent Stan wait up for him?

"Hey," Stan turned to the guy volunteering to be ticket master at the door. "You seen my brother anywhere?"

The guy glanced at him.

"What's he look like?"

Stan smirked.

"Well, me actually,"

They straightened.

"Pines?"

"Uh, yeah,"

Some one came down the hall. Stan turned, hoping it was his brother.

"Hey Jules," the ticket guy called.

"Hey Rocky,"

The girl waved and walked out. Stan huffed.

"So, have you seen him?"

'Rocky' shrugged.

"Yeah. He walked out with some friends of his a little over an hour ago. They were making a real racket. Knocked over my table," Rocky shook his head. "Honestly Stanford, I don't know how you deal with that guy for a brother,"

Stan blinked.

_Wait ..._

"Um, yeah ... well _actually_. I think Stan's a great guy! He's fun and good with the ladies, and I'm sure he'd be great friends with anybody! He - ,"

Stan stopped at the weird look he was getting.

_Too much?_

"Err," Stan rubbed his neck. "Look, do you know which way he went?"

The guy shrugged.

"Just leave him Stanford. Let him find his own way home, you know? Glory knows he'd do the same,"

Stan frowned under his mask.

"He wouldn't. And I won't. If you didn't know, you could've just said so, yeesh," Stan walked towards the door.

"Stanford wait,"

Stan turned.

"What?"

Rocky sighed.

"Okay, I heard them say something about Cliffpoint - ,"

Stan stiffened. A shiver ran down his back.

_Never again ..._

" - but look. I know he's your brother and all. Blood and water and whatnot. But come on Stanford. Your grades are great. The teachers love you. Us in the student council don't think your half-bad. If you stopped hangin' out with Stan so much, I think you'd actually have a lot more friends - ,"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Rocky looked away.

"It's nothing personal Stanford. But you gotta know by now that nobody really likes talking to you when your brother 's leaning over your shoulder makin' kissey faces all the while - ,"

"Hey! That was one time. Err, two. Three at the most! Well ... okay, maybe four or five. It's - it's it's a funny thing. I don't see what's wrong - ,"

"Nevermind Stanford. You do you. I was just saying. Its your life I guess,"

Stan furrowed his brow. He was silent for a minute. Then he made up his mind and nodded.

"Darn tootin' it's my life," He walked out. "Err, well Ford's life," he mumbled as an after thought when he stepped into the frigid outside air.

Stan sighed.

_Well that was just depressing. Yeesh, where'd Ford go?_

Stan stepped over to his red Diablo.

Cliffpoint though.

_Come on Sixer. Why'd it have to be Cliffpoint?_

***

It was a massive party. The school dance looked like a small get together compared to this. There were cars parked everywhere, Stan had to go two blocks down just to get a spot. People had brought food, drinks, lights, a huge speaker system that blasted music a mile away. Honestly it was his kinda party. He was tempted to stay.

But off course Ford was in there somewhere. How someone could possibly have convinced him to head over here was beyond Stan. This looked like everything Ford hated. The kids were a lot of college freshman from the University nearby. But a lot of high school seniors - or anyone that at least _looked_ like a senior - had come to party it up. There was a bar that held all sort of drinks and some kids that had taken it on themselves to play bartender.

He saw smoke floating in a trail across the air. That told him that somewhere a supplier held a catch of drugs ready to sell to new customers. People were dressed up in all sorts of costumes. There were small games playing out together in different spots. Stupid stuff like spin the bottle, but also a table had been set up for some poker. Some one had even hauled out a perfectly good pool table.

The police would come. They always came when these things went down. They let the kids have their fun for a few hours then shut it down round midnight. The key was to leave round 11:30, so you don't catch the rush. The only people who ever stayed past the witching hour were those too drunk or stoned to move. The ones that didn't have good enough friends to drag them away before they all got booked.

Seriously, where was Ford?

Stan mingled in the crowd. He was only a junior, but some college freshman girls gave him winks. He grinned. This was his kind of party.

He got caught up in a few songs and someone even shoved a cup into his hand. Normally he might have just drank it. He didn't really care about those weird horror stories where someone slipped you something, he liked having a good time. But tonight he was looking for Ford, so he put it down and kept sifting through the crowd.

It was late when he left the school around 10 - 10:30, but now it was pulling towards 11:00. He whacked himself in the head when a idea occurred to him.

This wasn't Ford's kind of party. So of course what would that nerd be getting up to it and place like this? He'd be sitting alone on the outskirts, that's what. Stan was going about it all wrong trying to fumble through the thick of things. He changed tactics and made his way out of the crowd.

He found himself on the far part of the cliff and let out a groan. The place wasn't call 'Cliffpoint' for nothing. The whole pace was a outcrop were a hill had been slashed in two with the erosion of the tide. It came to a point where the rock-face plummeted down to the ocean below, and slowly evened out till it melted back with the flat beach.

He walked down the hill and away from the cliff's edge. It was best to put some distance between himself and that nightmare. He couldn't help but shudder at what had almost happened _last_ time.

Ford remain elusive. It was a big place, filled with a lot of people. But he'd been there for a while now. Stan was starring to think Ford wasn't here at all. Maybe his brother had convinced whoever to just take him home.

"Hey,"

He turned and looked over to a girl in a bunny costume. It was one of those things where it was overly modest just to protest the demoralization of women. Women's rights was a big thing in some circles, and he didn't doubt this college girl was writing an essay on it, or coming up with an experiment or something. Stan didn't really care. It still looked really good on her.

"Hey," he answered back with a grin.

"I, like, _really_ like your costume," she slurred.

He raised a brow as he realized how utterly drunk she was. He laughed.

"Thanks. I like yours too. It's _very_ fluffy," 

She giggled and came closer.

"Oh, wow. That's _so_ nice of you," her voice was light and laughed again. It was a nice laugh. She had a nice laugh.

Stan held out a hand.

"Can I, touch your costume?"

She stepped forward, but tripped. He caught her in his arms and she smiled up at him.

"Whoops,"

Stan laughed. It was funny. She was funny. And super drunk. He touched the bunny ear. Oh, wow. The costume must been almost brand new. That thing was _soft_.

"You're really drunk," he said with a smile.

Drunk people were fun. He kind of wished he was drunk. But oh yeah. He was looking for Ford.

"Hey, you got someway to get out of here right? You didn't just drive here on your own or anything?"

Her eyes screwed up in concentration.

"Um. I think I'm here with Richard,"

"Oh yeah? Is that your boyfriend. Or is he your brother, because assuming one over the other can get weird,"

"Nah, he's my boyfriend,"

Stan smirked.

"Well I think you should go find him. Don't let him catch you with me or anything,"

Her eyes trailed the people around them.

"Yeaaah ... ," suddenly here unfocused gaze jerked to him and locked on.

The thought passed his mind quicker than he could act.

_Not_ _again_ _._

She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him in for a heated kiss. Stan didn't exactly stop her, but he waited for their lips to break away before taking a good step back. His face was bright red, but he couldn't keep the amused smile off his face.

"Okay," He chuckled. "You are _really_ drunk, and I've got a nerd to find. See you latter, uh - what'd you say your name was?"

She winked at him.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

He laughed and walked off. This was definitely his kind of party. He hoped the girl ended up home alright.

Walking all along the edge he still didn't see Ford. He was offered a spot in a few games, but he's declined and kept looking. It was getting toward optimal leaving time and really both boys needed to get home. They didn't have a curfew, but they had said they'd be back round 11:00 at the latest. He didn't need his dad calling the cops on him again. That had been embarrassing enough the first three times.

Suddenly he heard a round of shouts coming from further up the cliff. They all were chanting 'Through him off! Through him off! Through him off!' And it brought back bad memories. He groaned. What poor sap were they trying to toss this time?

He made his way up the hill. He'd _barely_ made it out of that last time. He didn't think anyone else would be as lucky without at least a little help.

A group of drunk guys came into view, most of which he actually recognized. Five of them were holding down someone who was struggling. They all just laughed.

'Through him off! Through him off! Through him off!'

They were dragging him closer to the edge of the cliff. Stan needed to act fast before he lost his nerve.

"Hey! What if we _don't_ throw him off?" he called.

He got some strange looks and rolled eyes. Stan sighed. The direct approach almost never worked, but it wasn't for lack of trying. He stepped over and went to pull someone away. An elbow shoved him aside.

"Just what do you think you're doing hotshot?" came a slur.

Stan rolled his eyes.

"Let the 'em go,"

"Pfft! No way. This is payback,"

Stan raised a brow.

"Payback?" He wasn't one to get between retribution. "What payback?"

Some of the kids payed him a little more attention.

"What is it? Why aren't we hauling this dude off the cliff yet?"

Someone else turned to him.

"Look, it ain't none of your business. The guy just owes us money. We're gonna teach him a lesson,"

For the first time Stan noticed the who they were ready to toss over. He was struggling, and yelling at them.

"Look, look! I _have_ money on me! You can take it! Just let me go!"

Stan frowned. He recognized that voice.

"Ah, quiet Stanley,"

"Why won't you listen to me? I'm not Stanley! I'm his twin brother _Stanford_!"

"That is the worst lie you've come up with, _ever_ ,"

_Holy -_

"Stanford!"

Yeesh. Took Stan long enough to find 'em.

Ford stopped trying to tear himself away long enough to look over.

"Stanley! You're here! Quick! Tell them I'm not you! They're _insane_ and they won't listen to me!"

Stan scoffed inwardly.

_What makes you think they'll listen to_ **_me_ ** _?_

Talking was beyond the situation. Stan went straight to his next mode of persuasion and clocked the nearest guy.

An all out brawl started.

This was _definitely_ his kind of party.

Stan got caught up in a whirl of fists and punches. He made a point to keep away from the cliff's edge. For a minute or two he lost sight of Ford. Then he saw him. His brother was doing his best to weave out of the circle that was forming around the fight. Stan made his way over and grabbed his arm. Ford lashed out with a fist, and Stan ducked.

"Whoa, whoa! It's just me poindexter! Yeesh, it's just me,"

"Oh, well in that case," Ford struck out again.

Stan ducked

"Hey! What's the big idea?"

"Lets just get out of here. I am _done_ with today,"

Stan snickered.

"Alright, alright. Let's go,"

They managed to squeezed out of the crowd and headed towards the cars. They made it the two blocks over and the brothers saw police zooming through, sirens blaring. Stan smiled and they got into his Diablo.

They pulled off their masks and threw them in the back seat as Stan pulled out and made his way towards home. Ford leaned back and let out a wary sigh. Stan chuckled.

"So, decided to head to another party did you?"

Ford glowered.

"No. I _didn't_. I was jumped by three guys - who completely ditched me when we got there by the way - who thought I was you. I am never pulling that twin prank with you ever again - ,"

"That's what you said last month,"

"I hate it when we get mixed up like that. And I don't like your friends. By the way you owe me twenty dollars. Which I know you won't pay me back. And another fifty to some guy I gave the slip. And another ten to this one girl. I got slapped by the way. Slapped Stanley. _Again_ ,"

"Lighten up Sixer. Didn't you have at least a little fun?"

"No, I did not have _fun_. I was face assaulted by some girl in this - over sized - rabbit suit - ,"

"Did you get her name?"

"No Stanley! I did not get her _name_. Or her phone address. Or her _social_ _security_ number - ,"

"Yeesh Ford. She has a boyfriend,"

"Why do you owe so much money? What could you possibly do with over eighty dollars of debt?"

"Pay off the other guys I borrowed money from. Then everyone adds interest so it keeps growing. And anyway, toffee peanuts are expensive,"

" _That is not okay_! This? This was not okay! They could've killed me! The moon isn't anywhere _near_ strong enough to make the tide rise far enough above the rocks at the bottom of that cliff tonight! It's waning Stan! The moon is waning!"

Stan tightened his grip on the wheel.

"Look. I'm sorry you got caught up in all my 'bad life choices'. Let's just go to bed and forget tonight, alright? I promise nothing like this will ever happen again. And if it does? Well I'll just come find you again. It's fine. Really,"

"No it's not fine! And you talk about me behind my back don't you!"

"What?"

"All night! Everyone that knows you even remotely well. It's all science nerd this, and stuck up jerk that. If you're so fed up with me than you should stop dragging me into all of your hair-brained schemes!"

"I don't - err, well. What I mean to say is - ," Stan frowned.

"Stop the car,"

"What - ,"

"Stop the car!"

Stan gently the brakes and parked on the curb. Ford threw open the door and walked away. Stan slid out too and ran after him.

"Ford, what are you doing?"

"Leave me alone Stan. I'm walking home,"

"It's freezing out here. Home 's like, three miles that way,"

Ford put his hands in his pockets and glowered at Stan.

"I don't care, I'm walking. Leave me alone," he hunched over and made his way down the sidewalk.

"Ford, come on,"

"Leave me alone,"

Stan frowned. He looked at the car, then at Ford. He made his way around and hopped back in. Driving up closer, he rolled down the window he tossed Ford's coat at him.

"Stan, I told you to leave me - ,"

"You won't make it. I'll come back for you once you've cooled off," He rolled the window back up and peeled down the street leaving Ford behind.

When he got home Filbrick was there to greet him.

"Where were you? I was about to call the cops. Where's your brother?"

Stan sighed.

"I'm fine pa. We're fine. Ford's - fine. Just some dance misadventures," Stan blinked and smiled. "Funny story - ,"

"Where 's your brother,"

"He wanted to _walk_. He's fine. I'll go pick him back up here in a second. Just let me get something to drink," Stan walked into the kitchen.

His mom was there.

"Hey, ma,"

"What mess did you _drag_ Stanford into this time?"

Stan rolled his eyes.

"It's not my fault the guy can't enjoy a party,"

"You need to leave your brother alone," his father's voice rumbled as he entered the kitchen. "It's not enough that you louse around everywhere, but you pull Stanford right along with you,"

Stan pulled a glass out of the cupboard.

"Yeah. I know Pa. Alright? I get it. Ford's goin' places. But if he didn't want to hang out with me, then he _wouldn't_. I only kidnap him _sometimes_. Heh,"

His mom chipped in as he poured water from the tap.

"It's not like he can tell you no, sweetie,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Stan turned off the water and leaned against the counter.

His mom sighed.

"Nothing. Nevermind. Come on Filbrick. Now that we know they aren't _dead_ \- I'm tired,"

"Mm,"

His parents headed out of the kitchen, but his dad stopped and threw over his shoulder.

"You better go get him. Don't let him stay out there on his own,"

Stan scoffed, but Filbrick was already gone. Stan mumbled into his cup.

"You let _me_ stay out on _my_ own _all the time_ ,"

He drank the water than rinsed the glass. Taking a moment, Stanley stood alone in the empty room and listened to the clock tick. He heard his parents door shut, and the noise of late night cars passing in the night. Finally Stan sighed and headed out.

***

He couldn't find Ford anywhere along the side of the rode. He drove up and down, tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel.

"Come on bro, where are you?"

It was well past midnight. And then Stan realized where Ford had gone. He shook his head and lowered his hands on the wheel as went to park the car back at the house. It was a short walk to where he was headed.

Stan walked down the road towards the beach. He rounded a corner and saw Ford sitting on their swing-set.

"Hey," he called.

"Mm,"

Stan walked over and took a seat. He pulled a grin.

"What's a good lookin' stranger like yourself doing in a place like this?"

Ford glanced over to him unamused. Then his face grew suspicious.

"Did you just - inadvertently compliment yourself?"

Stan shrugged, still smiling.

"Maybe,"

Ford rolled his eyes and stared at the ground. Then a smile cracked on his face. He sighed.

"Stan," he shook his head. "You're incorrigible,"

Stan smiled, leaning closer.

"Is that a _good_ thing?"

Ford smile dropped.

"No. No it isn't,"

Stan blinked.

"Well, I _was_ thinking of trying out the bad boy gimmick. Chics dig bad boys,"

"Can't you take things seriously for _one_ second?"

Stan shrugged.

"Where's the fun in that?"

Ford squeezed his eyes shut, fists tightening on the swing's metal chains.

"Not everything is about _fun_ all the time Stanley. Why can't you _just_ ... ," Ford trailed off and looked away.

Stan leaned closer.

"Just what?" He elbowed Ford. "Eh?" He gave a half hearted smile. "Just what?"

Ford sighed.

"It's been a long day Stan," he kicked his foot at the sand.

Stan stayed silent. He looked up at the thin moon hanging in the sky. Ford shivered.

"Hey, here," Stan shrugged off his jacket and handed it to Ford. "Guess one coat isn't enough?"

Ford stared from it to Stan.

"What about you?"

"I was getting hot anyway," He gestured for Ford to take it. "Here,"

Ford reached and grabbed the coat. He pulled his arms through the sleeves.

"Thanks,"

"I don't talk bad about you,"

"What?"

"What you said before. I don't talk bad about you behind your back," Stan frowned. "Or ... at least I don't mean to,"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Stan rolled his eyes.

"I don't know. Stupid stuff comes out of my mouth all the time. I don't mean anything by it,"

"I'm sure,"

Stan huffed.

"No, I mean it. Err - I don't mean it. I mean ... It's - it's just stupid stuff. Dumb complaining, I don't know. You do it too. We both do it. All the time. People just take it wrong. You know what that's like, right? You're just sort of complaining about somethin', but you don't really mean it, but other people think you do?"

Ford gave him a skeptical look.

"I really don't think that's what that was,"

"'Course it was. Nobody is s'posed to like their siblings. You say they aren't half bad and suddenly your gettin' weird looks - ,"

"I don't know what your talking about,"

"Well than I don't know what else to say Ford. What do you want from me? An apology? I'm sorry, alright. I'm sorry about this whole mess of a night and I'm sorry I dragged you outta your books and into the fresh air. I'm sorry. Yeesh," Stan leaned in the swing and slouched with a grumpy look.

They watched the waves lap at the beach. Ford stared at the moon's reflection on the water. He pulled his coat tighter over himself.

"You need better friends Stan,"

"They aren't my friends,"

"Which ones?"

"All of them,"

Ford glanced at Stan, surprised.

"I don't know Stan. They seemed pretty chummy to me,"

Stan just shrugged. He was still looking at the ground with a sullen expression.

"I just hang out with them every now and then. When I'm real bored and desperate for a good time," he gave a dark chuckle. "Emphasis on desperate. I can't believe they dragged you out to Cliffpoint,"

"They did _drag_ me out. They were being so daft and they wouldn't listen to me. No matter what I said. They thought I was you, but I didn't know that at first. I said 'brother' and they started insulting me thinking I was you. But honestly I think they _did_ know. It really just felt like some stupid sick joke they played on me. They sure didn't _act_ like I wasn't me. Wouldn't even give me the time of day when I felt like things were getting into the night,"

Stan let a tired smirk reach his lips.

"Yep. Sounds about right. Those guys sure know how to party,"

Ford grimaced.

"I don't like them. I can't believe you spend your time with people like that,"

Stan snickered.

"Come off it. They're fine. Really, they are. They're nice guys, everyone thinks their great,"

"Their actions say otherwise. They weren't very nice to _me_ ,"

"Nah. You forget. They thought you were me. Trust me. If they knew who you really were, they would've been a whole lot different. Wouldn't have spoken a word. Those guys are just jealous,"

"Jealous?"

"Sure. Lots of folk are jealous of you,"

"What?"

"Yeesh Ford. People _like_ you. You don't have to be so surprised,"

"I'm not - it's just ... I mean. Nobody acts like it,"

"Well trust me they do. Heck I was just talking to some guy on the student council. The guy at the ticket booth. Rocky? I think,"

"Yeah?"

"I was looking for you and he told me where you went, but thing was he thought I _was_ you. Ironic right?"

"Well actually that's more like a funny coincidence. There's no reason for it be ironic,"

Stan chuckled.

"Anyway. Yeah. He likes you. And he said a lot of other people like you. Not that I didn't know that already. But he said people would want to be your friend if - ," Stan stopped. "Err well. You're liked. Anyways. Sorry about tonight, " Stan rubbed his neck and looked away.

Ford for his part looked at the stars in the sky.

"Mm ... ," then he turned to Stan. "Wait, _if_ what? People actually want to be my friend? Well - not that I care, but for curiosities sake. What exactly would institute a more favorable reaction to my personal company? I've been wondering about it. I get the feeling I should have more interpersonal relations, but I haven't found the time to get around to it. Is there a way make the whole endeavor easier?"

Stan glanced at him and smirked.

"You getting lonely yet Ford?"

Ford's brow furrowed. He took a moment to chew on this.

"Well ... no actually. No, I think my answer 's the same as the last time you 'asked'. I still don't see what's wrong with that though. If I'm being honest I feel even more content on my own as I'm developing into adulthood,"

"Okay nerd talk aside, then let's just forget it,"

"But ... shouldn't people have friends?"

"You have friends,"

"As much as I enjoy talking with the chess club, I don't spend time with them outside of said club. So I don't really think they count,"

"Oh,"

"I have you,"

"Me? Ford I don't count. Just like you don't count. You're not my friend. Friends are a dime a dozen. But me? Heh. You're never gettin' rid of _me_ ,"

" ... Duly noted,"

"What were talking about?"

"Well I don't know. I was mad. You always make me forget why I was mad. You really have to stop doing that,"

"I don't do it on _purpose_. You just looove meee,"

Ford gave his arm a light punch.

"Shut up, Lee."

Stan smiled.

"Think we'll go home now?"

Ford let out a thoughtful hum.

"Lets ... let's just stay here. For a little while longer at least. Ma and Pa aren't waiting up are they?"

"Nah, I took care of it."

"Alright."

Stan started rocking back and forth on his swing.

"Think I can get high enough to go all the way over?"

"You might break it."

"Maybe." Stan stopped swinging.

They sat in silence and watched the ocean. Ford needed the silence. Stan felt content to let it be. He only felt okay with being quiet when he was alone. But also with Ford. The moon rose higher and the stars shifted in the sky.

Finally Ford stood. Wordlessly Stan got up and followed. Ford slung an arm around his brother and they walked back home shoulder to shoulder.

***

_ Now _

Stan groaned. Consciousness wasn't agreeing with him.

"Stanley? Stanley you're awake!"

Stan pulled up a hand and rubbed at his temples. Where was he? What was going on? He went to sit up and his stomach churned.

"No, take it easy,"

A hand rested on his chest, pushing him into whatever bed he was laying on. Stan snatched it, teeth gritted in frustration.

"What is this?" He slurred. "Where am I? Who are you?"

"Stanley, calm down. It's alright. I'm right here. Your twin brother Stanford, remember? Your head feels a little hazy, I know, but everything's going to be alright,"

_Stanford ..._

_... !_

"Get off me!" Stan swung out with an uncoordinated fist.

Ford caught it.

"Stanley! Stanley it's okay. Calm down,"

"I said get off!" Stan shoved him away.

He needed to move. He jumped out of the bed onto his feet and his head swam.

"Stanley, please," Ford reached for his arm to help steady him. "It's okay. I know you're confused, but everything is fine. You're safe. I'm here. Stanford. Your brother,"

_No!_

Stan pushed him away one last time, feet stumbling back till he hit a wall.

"Stay away from me!" He shouted.

He wasn't just gonna lie down and take this. He needed to act. To _do_ something.

"Stanley, please - ,"

"Shut up!" He needed to think. Something wasn't right. He felt _off_. What was wrong? What was it?

His head was killing him for one. His ears rang and his nose twitched. Stan tried to look around, but everything was blurry. The left melded in with his right and frankly it was giving him a migraine. He squinted and made out the image of what he assumed was his brother.

Stan stepped forward and lashed out with a fist. To his immense surprise Ford dodged Stan's left hook and used his momentum to shove Stan to the floor.

"S-Stanley ... ?" Ford stepped away from him, giving him much needed space.

Stan squeezed his eyes shut, fingers clenched tight on the floor. He stood onto shaky legs, head pounding worse than ever.

_Alright. Okay._ _**Punchline 's over** _ _. What now? Eh? I don't even know what the heck this is supposed to be, so would someone just go ahead and explain it to the delegated idiot?_

Memories began to slide into place. The nightmare realm. Bill Cipher. Coming through the portal. Seeing Stanford -

His eyes jerked to his brother. The two distinct images of Ford competed over each other, but it very much _was_ Stanford. Relief flooded his chest, and it clashed with the instant doubt.

_No. Is this real? It has to be. It **has** to. After all that, it **has** to be._

Stan ran a hand through his hair and he heard Ford's worried voice.

"S-S-Stan-Stanley p-p-please it's - it's okay ... ,"

_It's not real. None of this is real. Cipher I swear -_

But what if it was?

 _There's only one way to know for sure._  

Stan charge forward and snatched Ford's wrist. 

"Hit me," he growled. 

"W-w-what?"

" _Hit me_ ,"

"W-w-why?"

Stan shoved Ford. 

"Go on! Hit me!"

"N-n-no. S-S-Stanley, s-s-st-stop. It's - it's o-o-okay - ," 

Stan gave a half hearted swing and caught Ford in the chest. 

"You always wanted to give me a good shiner, well now 's your chance!" 

Ford stumbled back and hit his back to the wall. Stanley could hear his brother's breath hitch as he struggled to comprehend, but Stan forced himself not to care. Not yet. He couldn't care yet. Not if it wasn't real. Not if he would just be giving Cipher what he wanted. 

 _But what if it's real? What if Cipher really let me go?_  

Stanley almost hoped it wasn't. And there was Ford, crouched against the wall, his confusion tangible. Stan hated this. He hated all of it. No matter what he did, Stanley lost. He gripped his throbbing skull, temper dropping as the hopelessness of his situation washed over him. 

"Just ... just one good right hook. A - a strong kick, _anything_ ," Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. " _Please_ Ford, I just - ,"

_What am I going to do? It's not real. After all that - Cipher you freakin' lead me on!_

Pain erupted in his face and Stan careened to the ground. He gasped in air, his jaw an aching mess. His headache splintered across his skull, and his ears rang. Stan brought a hand to his face, expression one of sheer shock. He couldn't move, he couldn't think. 

_It's ... real?_

Ford choked out a gasp. 

"O-oh m-m-m-my g-g-go-gosh! S-S-Stanley I'm - I'm s-s-so - s-so s-s-sorry!" he sounded distraught. 

Stan blinked up at Ford to see the twisted view of his brother wrap his arms around himself and step away. Stan swallowed, the action sending a shock-wave through his teeth. He held onto that feeling of pain like a lifeline and slowly rose on his legs. Stan swayed and Ford stepped forward to steady him. 

When Stanley got his feet under him, Ford went to pull away but Stan caught his arm. 

"No - no Ford, I'm sorry. I didn't mean - ," Talking made his mouth throb, but Stan relished the sensation.

 _Idiot. Idiot, idiot, **idiot**._  

"S-S-Stanley - I-I-I'm s-s-sorry - b-b-but y-y-you - ,"

"Thanks" Stan gave Ford's arm a reassuring squeeze. "Th-thank you - ," he collapsed onto Ford, holding his brother tight. 

He heard Ford sigh in relief.

"Y-you're - you're not g-gonna try and swing at me a-a-again are y-you?"

Stan shook his head. He looked at his brother and the ache behind his eyes got worse. 

_Stupid, freaky dimension, worthless pieces of sensory garbage!_

It was real. He was actually back with Ford. He was _here_.  _Now_. But that didn't mean things were going to be better. Not just yet. He strengthened his grip on Ford, desperation seeping into the action. Ford returned the gesture with a sigh.

"It - It's been ... a l-long six months,"

Stan jerked his head back.

"Wait - _six months_?"

There was the sound of the door opening and a voice entered the room.

"Oh, good. He's awake. I'll page the doctor,"

Stan stiffened.

_I better not be in a hospital, or I swear I'm gonna break something._


	2. Chapter 2

_ Now _

"Get that outta my face."

Stan ripped the doctor's stethoscope away. The man grimaced.

" - Ow! Pardon, but that's delicate medical equipment - ,"

Stan snapped it in two.

"I ain't havin' doctors poke and prod me all day long. Where are my shades?"

The teenage boy serving as nurse stepped up, holding a thermometer at his side.

"Your coat and other belongings are there in the dresser. Please, you can't leave this room till a full physical examination has been recorded."

Stan went over to said dresser, and started digging around.

"Yeesh, can't believe I got landed in a hospital." He pulled out a silver metal pair of glasses.

"Mr. Pines, this isn't a hospital. It's the detainment section of the military base you are currently in," the other nurse, the boy's older sister, stepped up with a medical tool of her own. "The sooner you co-operate, the sooner we can let you out of here,"

Stan slipped his shades on and his entire figure relax.

"Fine," He rubbed at his temple and sat back down on the bed.

The doctor stepped forward.

"Are you experiencing a headache? Fatigue? Nausea?"

Stan waved him off with a hand.

" _Yes_. Now back off,"

The girl came over and pulled at Stan's arm to wrap a velcro around it. She began to take his blood pressure as she squeezed the plastic ball attached to the rubber tube.

"We're going to need to check your eyes. You'll have to take those glasses off,"

"Just give me minute, _alright_? Where'd you say we are?"

The doctor murmured something to the boy. The young nurse stepped out of the room and the man took another step forward.

"Bleeding Heart Military base. We're directly adjacent to the Shooting Star Nursery. Do you know your first name Mr. Pines?"

"What?"

"Your name. I'm trying to get a read on your mental state in order to discern if you can reliably answer the rest of my questions,"

"Yeah, I know my name,"

"What is it?"

"Do _you_ know my name?"

"The point isn't if I know it. It's if you do - ,"

"If either of us say my name aloud, then the other could be lying that they knew it and - ,"

"Please just respond Mr. Pines,"

"Stanley Pines,"

"Thank you. Now, you said you have a headache, nausea, fatigue. Could you elaborate?"

"The sound of your grating voice is killing me. My heart 's givin' out because of it, I guess you'll have to stop talking - ,"

"Mr. Pines. Could you _please_ co-operate,"

"When can I leave already?"

"We can't let you out of this room until we have confirmed that you are not a security threat. This is standard procedure for all unauthorized inter-dimensional travelers, and even most authorized ones,"

"Meh. Hey, you done yet?" He turned to the girl and tapped her shoulder. "My arm feels like it's gonna fall off,"

She glanced up at him.

"Sorry. It takes a while, and I'm still training. I want to get this right so I only have to do it once,"

"Uh-huh,"

The Doctor cleared his throat.

"Mr. Pines, please."

"Whatever. What do you want?"

"Do you feel any soreness of joints?"

"No,"

"Do your teeth feel particularly tingly, or cavity ridden?"

"I don't have a clue what that has to do with anything, but no,"

The door opened and a woman walked in.

"Mr. Pines. It's good to see you awake,"

Ford turned and looked at who had entered. He nodded her way.

"Vestra,"

She nodded back.

"Stanford," she turned to the Doctor. "You can finish this in better depth later then. I'm sure that Mr. Pines would like to leave and stretch his legs. Perhaps get some answers to his questions,"

"Oh, hey. Finally someone talkin' sense," Stan stood up. "Who are you exactly?"

Vestra put her hand on her heart and bowed.

"Vestra Doer," she straightened. "Nice to make your acquaintance,"

Stan snorted.

"What is this, Japan?"

Vestra's brow quirked.

"I understand what you're referencing, but that's both stereotypical and no longer applicable on our planet. Japan has been long gone for the past two decades. Culture no longer has much meaning here,"

" ... right,"

"It's illegal to shake hands,"

"Wait, seriously?"

The doctor and nurse stepped out of the room. Vestra gestured to the door.

"Let me show you around,"

"Yeah, sure,"

Vestra stepped outside. Stan stood, fingers tapping his leg, agitated. Ford was at his side in an instant. The action didn't even process in his mind till he was there and stepping out the door with his brother. Stan seemed surprised for a moment. There was a second of hesitancy before he shook it off and strode inline with his brother.

"So, what is this place?" he asked.

"This is a military base,"

"Yeah I got that much. But what _is_ it,"

"Well, _this_ base has been specifically outfitted for exploration. Other units, like the Pine Tree Research Center, house scientific advancements. We work in close proximity with that one in specific, seeing as some of the artifacts our explorers bring back sometimes have more advance technology than our current state of society. That isn't to say that the base here doesn't have its own research team. In fact that's exactly what Stanford has been working on since he arrived. Of course that's all confidential, but as soon as your security clearance is determined your brother can catch you up as much as he wishes,"

Walking down the long halls was doing wonders for Stan's head. The need to take in his surroundings grounded him, and the flow of blood working it's way across his body made his mind a lot clearer.

He couldn't see a thing with his shades on, but that was kinda the point. Eyes? Who needed 'em. They'd been so up and down lately he didn't even know if they worked in this dimension anymore. He'd have to check later, but it was nicer to smell the bleached walls and waxed floors. The sterile scent of something _way_ too clean. Their steps echoed as they walked, Vestra's a clipped sound of polished heels. Business. Vestra seemed to be all business. Whoever she was, she had the air of someone in charge.

"I believe that will mostly consist of hearing a set of our rules. Basic things, like murder and theft aren't allowed. You never know when exploring the multi-verse. Some life forms find it perfectly acceptable to kill - hive minds mostly, but some other cultures too. I think you understand the reasons behind most of them - not defacing public property being another stigma. However there are a few things I think you'll need to pay special attention to,"

There was one thing that Stan felt hyper-aware of. Ford. His brother was right next to him. Not an illusion. Not a trick or a ploy. Not another memory to throw at Stan.

Ford on the beach. Ford in college. Ford alone. Ford with Stan. Ford sitting in that house. Reading books. Stressed over tests. Driving a car. Discovering anomalies.

Ford. Ford. _Ford_.

And here he was. Like an impossible legend, brought to life. Like a ghost from the past haunting Stan. They were _brothers_. He'd known Ford his _whole life_. And yet here he was, a stranger that Stan knew everything about.

"For one, while it isn't chargeable by any offense, it's highly discouraged to practice any form of sarcasm,"

_You've gotta be kidding me._

"And like I was saying before, handshakes aren't legal. Neither are candles, matches, or incense. Most magic is under strict observation in the Pentagram unit where they exploit the use under controlled conditions and even attempt to mix it with science for the community's benefit. Many of the doors leading to a more important part of the facility are barred by an eye scanner, along with a necessary keycard for almost every door in between. A basic security measure. You'll be outfitted with your own shortly,"

She stopped walking.

"This is my office. I will admit, my reasons for our meeting are to discuss a more delicate matter in private. If you'll please come in,"

Stan was starting to get an idea where all of this was going.

He was still aware of Ford, following him through the doorway, silent and ever present in proximity. Stan found comfort in the ease that Ford slipped back into their old pattern, but he was also hesitant. He didn't want things to just go back to the way they were before. He couldn't. Not after everything he'd seen and heard.

Had it really been six months? It'd felt like an eternity.

He heard the heavy door slide closed behind him. The tap of Vestra's shoes sounded muffled against wood as she made her way across the room.

"Please," a pause that Stan could only guess was filled with a gesture. "Sit,"

He might have. He might have stepped over to the chairs that were obviously there. He might have sat down and they might have continued their talk. But Stan couldn't see a thing. Which didn't mean he couldn't glide over to the seat and plant himself in it as easy as anyone else (for crying out loud, he'd been getting better at this stuff), but that wasn't the point.

What _was_ the point? He didn't have a clue. But that didn't stop him from leaning against the door, arms crossed, with an unimpressed look pulled across his face.

"Mr. Pines?"

She couldn't see it, but under his glasses Stan rolled his eyes.

"You know what? I bet Bill Cipher loves this place. You really know how to feed his ego. What did ya ban the color yellow too?"

There was a small moment of silence.

" ... Yes actually - ,"

Stan barked a laugh. It was by no means a happy laugh. It was cold and patronizing.

"Mr. Pines, please - ,"

Stan's laugh came to an abrupt stop.

"Oh, don't 'please' me. What do you want? Spit it out and get this over with,"

He heard Vestra's sigh.

"Straight to the point then," she murmured. "Alright Mr. Pines. According to my knowledge you have been in contact with Bill Cipher the last six months. Is this correct?"

"Yes,"

He was still aware of Ford next to him. Even as Stan and Vestra spoke he simply stood and listened. Stan wondered what he was thinking even as his own mind remembered brief flashes of things he'd rather forget about.

"This is a facility founded on the defense against Cipher and his methods of intrusion. The most pressing threat that you can pose is in allowing him entrance into our community after all the effort we've made in keeping him out,"

She stepped forward and stood some ways in front of him, even as he continued to lean against the wall.

"Now, Mr. Pines. I cannot begin to imagine what it must be like in the place you've been,"

_No. You really_ _can't_ _._

"But I see two possibilities. Either you might help Cipher accomplish his goals of your own volition for whatever reason. Or you've made a deal that allows him access to your mind. These place you at Red and Purple security threat levels respectively. Most habitats in our base are level blue. You need to be classified. All I would like to know is your affiliation with Bill Cipher,"

Stan was quiet. He wasn't sure how to respond. Vestra interpreted his silence differently.

"If it makes you feel better. I'm a level purple. It's nothing to feel attacked about. Your brother is level purple and he's been integrated just fine. It's simply a precaution for security lock-downs and other delicate scenarios,"

It was at the mention of Ford that Stan's hand tightened into a fist, arms still crossed. He could hear his brothers steady breathing, completely unfazed by what was going on. He could feel his eyes on Stan as he leaned against the wall door.

As if Stan needed another reminder of Ford's connection to that yellow angle of nightmares.

"I have never made a deal with Cipher to enter my mind," he turned to stare at where he assumed Vestra to be. Eye contact always drove the point home. Even without her seeing his eyes he guessed by the tension enveloped in the air, that it was just as effective, if not more so. "And I don't ever plan to make one. Bill Cipher is _not_ my friend. He never was," and then as an after thought. "Unlike some people. What's with the names. Bleeding Heart? Pentagram, Shooting Star, Pine Tree?"

Vestra moved. He heard her shuffled through papers on what he could only assume was a desk.

"That's another rule. Nicknames outside of designated titles are illegal,"

"Making things illegal isn't gonna stop him,"

"It's worked for the last twenty years. I think we'll take our chances,"

"You know, that right there sounded like sass. Sass is a cousin to sarcasm, and didn't you say that's illegal?"

He could feel her grim smirk.

"Not illegal. Discouraged. We're all still human, and those of us still alive from before do have our moments. The kids these days all find it funny to be honest. I'm sure all the trainees will have a riot with you,"

"Assuming ... what? That I'm staying here? Am I prisoner, or could I leave?"

Vestra opened a drawer.

"You're perfectly welcome to leave anytime you wish. We have devices that can take you anywhere across the multi-verse. It's how we've been researching other worlds," the desk closed. "Of course, your also welcome to stay. We could provide you a room adjacent to your brother's. Like I said earlier. He's been working with us all this while,"

_I wonder what else_ _he's_ _been doing. Six months ..._

She came over and put something in his hand.

"Here's your keycard," she turned to Ford. "Stanford. What do you think? Are you going to stay? It's up to you of course,"

"Stanley?"

Stan bumped off the wall at Ford's voice.

"Yeah?"

"What do you ... what do you want?"

Ford was asking _him_? He was consulting _Stan_? As if any choice Stanley made was ever the right one.

In a way that was good. Because Stan wasn't leaving. He couldn't. But his stomach still dropped as he gave his answer.

"We're staying," Stan crossed his arms again. Guilt pooled in his gut. Even after everything, all Stan could do was make things worse.

Stan had only made all of this worse.

_What did I get myself into?_

Vestra for her part opened the door to let them out again. 

"In that case Mr. Pines. I'd like to formally welcome you to Bleeding Heart Military Base," 

***

_Two Days Earlier_

He eyes were locked onto the steady rhythm of Stanley's chest. His brother was _here_ and he was _alive_ , but he wouldn't wake up.

Another nurse entered the room, a demand for him to sleep on the tip of her tongue. Ford waved her off with a scowl. He wouldn't sleep. He couldn't. Not till he knew Stanley was okay. The nurse rolled her eyes, but turned and let him be. Ford hadn't left his brother's side once since he'd fallen through that portal. The doctors had said Stanley would be fine. That it was just a sort of dimensional jet-lag.

Ford didn't trust it. He didn't trust a lot of things.

He hadn't let them put any wires on Stan, or take any blood. Not a single injection, or any sort of constant monitor. He didn't care that he knew they meant the best. After it was determined Stanley wasn't hurt, Ford wouldn't let anyone too close.

And anyways. Ford let a small smile trace his lips, and thought of Stan's annoyed grumbles if he woke up to find himself hooked into a vast array of medical instruments.

He yawned and straightened as he stretched. Looking around he noticed the ever present ooze dripping down the walls. He pinched the bridge of his nose and simply tried to ignore the hallucination. At the very least his heart was no longer bursting out of his ribs.

"Stanford?"

Ford turned, surprised to see Vestra standing in the doorway. He frowned.

"H-h-hello," he waved.

She smiled back at him.

"I apologize for not coming sooner, but I've been busy." Her eyes wandered to Stanley and she pointed. "So this is him?"

Ford looked at Stan. His brother was still breathing, his chest rising at a steady pace. He nodded.

"Y-y-yes. M-my b-bro-brother,"

She stepped forward. Ford slid between them, panic rising as his heartbeat sped up despite the absurdness of the feeling. Vestra stopped and held up her hand in a placating gesture.

"Calm my friend. You're on edge,"

Ford bit his lip.

"M-m-may - maybe a l-l-li - ttle,"

She raised a brow, a smirk rising on her lips. Ford crossed his arms and looked down.

"O - or a l-lot,"

"You haven't been sleeping I see."

"Mm,"

"Maybe you should take a break from this vigil of yours - ,"

"No,"

Vestra blinked in surprise, then shook her head with a smile.

"I suppose I can't dissuade you. You're a stubborn man after all,"

Ford turned his head down and started to fiddle with his extra fingers. He almost didn't notice Vestra's smile falter, till she cleared her throat.

"Actually, I've come to ask - ," She glanced around the room, at Stanley, then came back to Ford. "That portal. The one your brother came through. I was just being informed of the readings gathered from it. I think they can offer valuable insight - ,"

"Vestra."

She frowned and stared at him, gaze going hard.

"I keep telling you Stanford. Just look at the _good_ it's done. It's _helped_. It's helped _you._ "

"I - I - I h-have m-m-my b-bro-brother back. I-I-I think w-w-we sho-should shut it d-d-down."

"I can't do that."

"Th-th-then at l-least l-l-leave me out - out of i-i-it."

"But you're the catalyst. Do have any idea the progress that's been made since you arrived? Before the prospective finish date was _years_ out. Now? Now it's _months_ ,"

"W-w-we've both b-b-been down th-this road b-b-be-before - ,"

"This _isn't_ that. It _isn't_. It's _different_. It's not that _monstrosity_ he - ," Vestra took in a breath and forced herself to calm down. "Look. Stanford please. Just - just look." She gestured to Stanley. "Look what it did. This? Getting him back? That's just a small part of the possibilities. Compared to what it could do - this? This was a _hiccup_."

Ford looked at his hands, then clenched them into fists.

"H-h-have you h-h-heard of th-the t-tale of I-I-Icarus?"

Vestra pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Yes. Yes our planets have similar histories up until a couple decades ago. I am - _aware_ of Greek mythology,"

Ford looked up and gave her a firm stare.

"W-w-we've been b-b-burned b-before. W-we sh-should l-l-learn our - our l-l-lesson b-by n-now,"

"I'm really not fond of drawing allusion to my life with dead people. _Stories_ even."

"Th-th-that's not w-wh-what I - ,"

"Enough. You've made your point clear. _Plenty_ clear. Your reluctance these past few months have been obvious. I - I suppose I merely thought ... ," She took in another breath. "I see now, that there's no talking you out of it,"

"I - I just d-don't feel c-com-comfortable - ,"

"It's alright Stanford. I understand. In fact. I expected as much," She put her hands in her pockets.

Ford rubbed his chin and looked at Stanley. He willed his brother to wake up. He shifted his weight, his discomfort growing.

"V-V-Vestra ... ,"

"Don't. There's no need to feel upset. If anything ... I respect you more for sticking to what you think is right,"

Ford sighed.

"I - I'm s-sorry,"

Vestra strolled closer.

"You're co-operations thus far has been much appreciated Dr. Pines,"

He glanced her way as she gave him a half smile and tried to keep his breathing steady at her unwelcome proximity.

"Th-th-thanks,"

She stepped next to him and nodded. Ford swallowed, but nodded back. Vestra pulled a hand from her pocket and clasped it on his shoulder. Ford jerked away, body going stiff as Vestra backed up, arms raised to pacify him.

"I-I-I'm s-s-s-sorry, b-b-but I d-d-don't th-th-think - ," Ford stopped, words failing him as a pain blossomed in his shoulder. He put a hand over it in confusion. He blinked, eyes catching hold of something in her hand before his vision went hazy and he lurched.

Vestra stepped forward and caught him from falling.

"I'm sorry too Stanford. But you really are invaluable to the progression of this project,"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted eye-patch Stanley. 
> 
> Like - I really, REALLY wanted eye-patch Stanley. 
> 
> And to still 'have the function of both his eyes', so that he can switch which side he uses. So he can mess with people, and someone is just like - Wait, wasn't it the other - ? "The other what?" - Uh, never mind; must be seeing things -

_ Now _

They spent the rest of the day going through various checks. By the end of it they landed back with the Doctor and Stanley described his vision. 

"You're _prescribing_ me an eye-patch?"

The doctor handed Stan the black article.

"Well, you said you don't know what exactly happened to them,"

"They got messed with - I dunno. I'm not an expert,"

"And I'm uncertain how to correct '2-D sight'. But from what I can see and from what you've described, taking away the function of one of your eyes will correct the lack of depth perception. It's the simplest way to go about this,"

"Yeah, but," Stan rubbed the leather between his fingers. "it's a _eye-patch_. Am I gonna be a pirate now? Do I get to say 'me matey'?"

"Preferably not,"

Ford found it curious. He didn't like the idea of someone doing something to his brother's eyes. But he smirked, unable to not picture the hooked hand and skull painted cap as Stan slipped the strap over his head. For a moment his brother shrank into the image of a child - his bucket of candy sitting suspiciously full on the floor while Ford's no doubt would be pillaged. And then he was the full grown man again. Jovial, loud, troublesome and ... not smiling.

Stan glanced at Ford with his one eye and he had this Look. Ford's face fell and he scrutinized his brother. What was that? What was that Look?

"How's that feel Mr. Pines?"

Stan tore his gaze off of Ford and flicked it over to the doctor. He breathed in, then leaned back on his hands.

"It _feels_ like leather rubbing up against my skin. Guess you were right though. Works swell,"

"No headaches? Any blurriness?"

"No,"

The doctor nodded.

"Good," he turned to put together his things. "Then I thinks that's it. Thank you for your time,"

The door opened and the doctor's assistant, the boy, walked in. He handed something to the man, then stepped over to the brothers.

"A room is ready next to yours Dr. Pines. When you're ready, but we do need this one shortly,"

Ford nodded. The boy helped the doctor gather his things. They went to step out of the room, and the boy held open the door. His back rubbed up against the wall. Ooze and blood, and liquid dripped down his shirt. 

Ford glanced back at Stanley as heard the lock click shut.

It was just Stan and Ford. Stanley tapped his finger against his thigh. Ford looked at his brother and thoughts began to form in his mind.

"Stanley - ,"

"How're you doing Ford? I mean really?"

Ford blinked, confused. Stan was looking away. He pulled up a hand to bite a this nail, then glanced down and thought better of it, letting his arm drop. He shrugged.

"Cause, you know. I kinda jumped in without thinking back there. Kinda left you high and dry for - what? Six months you said? Yeesh ... ,"

Ford rubbed his hands together as he thought.

"Did ... you really not know how much time has passed?"

Stan waved him off.

"It got away from me,"

Ford swallowed.

"How long ... did you think it was?"

"I dunno. Didn't think about it. Day. Week. Years," Stan shrugged, eye planted on the fabric of his pants.

Ford opened his mouth to say something else, but was distracted by a lizard walking then fazing out. He blinked, shook his head, and tried to remember what he'd been doing.

"Earth to nerd," Stan snapped his fingers.

Ford turned back to his brother,  his mind coming back to him, and nodded.

"Roger," he murmured.

"Seriously, are you doing alright? You've seemed sort of out of it since I woke up,"

Ford frowned.

"You're asking me?"

"Ain't any other nerds in the room, is there?"

"No, I - ," Ford pursed his lips. "You ... you were the one who ... ," He dropped his hands and looked away.

"Stanford - ,"

"I should have told you," Ford blurted. He turned his head and looked up at Stan, eyes wide. He looked surprised at his out burst, but he kept going. "I - I had ... dreams. Nightmares. And - and sometimes I thought. If I had just - just t-t-told you. Talked to you. Th-then maybe ... maybe none of it would - w-w-would've h-happened," he swallowed, then looked away again.

Stan closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Then he let it out and stepped forward.

"Stanford," he clapped his hand on his brother's shoulder. "I understand. Alright? I understand why you never told me about Bill Cipher. I really do," he tried to catch Ford's eye. "I don't blame you. You shouldn't blame you. And I'm here now, so ... it's not a big deal,"

"I-I-Isn't it? What happened? Where you went - it - it's chaos. You were with - ," Ford glanced around the room as if someone was listening in. " _Bill Cipher_."

Stanley shrugged.

"Yeah."

"And?"

Stan shrugged again. Ford looked down at his hands and started to mess with his extra fingers. He furrowed his brows. 

"Stanley ... what - what happened there?" 

Ford watched as a war raged in his brother. Stan crossed his arms and stared at Ford with another Look. His jaw was tense, but his eyes looked far away. He opened his mouth, then shut it, at a loss for words. Ford swallowed, bile rising in his throat. 

"He ... he h-h-hurt you - ,"

" _No._ "

Stanley locked his gaze and Ford watched as his whole demeanor changed. He hands trembled with barely restrained rage, his fingers digging into his skin. 

"Not even once," Stan's eyes dropped, but the anger remained. "That sigil thing? The brand on my shoulder? It's actually some protective mark that's stupid specific. Nothing could hurt me the whole time."

"S-so then - ,"

"What about you Ford?"

"Me?"

"How are you? How ... have you been? There's nothing I can do to change what's happened, but - I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

Ford breathed out and let that sink in. 

"It's ... the last six months have been ... not pleasant."

"What happened?"

Ford gave a sad chuckle. 

" _A lot_."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. I was on this planet full of Arachnid creatures. There were advanced public shopping centers, and a weird raspberry product. Mustard made with unpurified castor oil! Assassins, enchantresses with a captivating toxic aroma, multi-species racism, and a thankfully incompetent local authority system - I - I was slowly going mad ... ," he scrunched his eyes shut and put his head in his hands as he focused on breathing. 

Stan came over and put his hands on his shoulders to ground his brother. Ford looked up and gave him a grateful smile. 

"It's alright though." his eyes wandered as he searched the room. "I'm okay. And you're back. Everything seems to have come together." 

"Wow. That - that _is_ a lot."

Ford nodded, showing his chagrin.

"And that was just the two months before I somehow found myself in a portal to here."

"I'm sorry." 

Ford let his arms drop to his side.

"Don't be. It's alright."

"It's really not."

"Well. It is now."

Stanley turned his head to avoid his brother's gaze and Ford frowned.

"Stanley?"

"I'm glad I found you again."

"Yeah. Me too." Ford reached out and held his brother's arm. "Hey. Everything will be okay. Right? It'll all turn out in the end. Remember?"

"Mm."

"What about _you_? What about ... Cipher? I mean ... we - we should probably talk about - everything."

Stanley  scratched his head. "I'm pretty worn out. Maybe ... maybe later." 

"Stanley - ,"

"Can we just ... ," he waved his arms, looking for his next words. "talk later? I think that maybe ... I need some sleep," 

Ford opened his mouth to protest, and stopped when he recognized the truth in Stanley's statement. The fight seemed to have gone out of him. He was left with light bags under his eyes and an overall heavy posture. Ford realized his brother must've still been exhausted from whatever the portal had done to him, along with the constant of the day's activities. 

Ford took in a deep breath, then let it out. 

"Alright," he nodded. "Okay."

***

Stan stepped into the room and gave it a quick sweep. Ford stood in the doorway.

"Looks just like mine. I suppose that makes sense." 

Stan glanced back at him. 

"Alright. 'Night I guess. Get some sleep." 

Ford nodded. 

"You too Lee." He stepped back and closed the door.

Stan heard it click shut. He stood alone and looked around. The blank walls gazed back. Stan walked over and sat on the bed. He closed his eyes and noted how oppressive the silence felt. He opened them again with a frown

He got up. Another door stood out at him. He went over and opened it to the bathroom. Inside was a shower, a toilet, and a mirror above the sink. He looked at his reflection, then down. Stan turned the tap on and listened when water flowed into the bowl and down the pipes. 

The hot water steamed against the mirror and began to obscure his image. Stanley stared. His cloudy form felt more welcome than his clear duplicate. More familiar. He put a hand up to the eye-patch. The leather was rough against his fingers. He rubbed his chin, then closed his eyes and pulled it off. 

Stanley was tired. He rubbed his eyes. The steam collected around his skin and drops began to form. He stood back and reached for the hand towel. Wiping his face, Stan pulled the cloth down and glanced up at his blurred reflection. The image jumped out at him, the left mingling with the right. A pressure built at his temples.

He put his head in his arms and stared at the white metal of the sink. He breathed in and out, focusing on the noise of the tap. It did nothing to relieve the ache. 

Relenting, Stanley reached into his coat, pulled out his glasses, and put them on. A moment or two passed before the blackness eased the pain. Stan shook his head and backed up. He left the water running as he stepped into the room. His body felt drained and he dropped onto the bed with a thud. 

_This is real._

His hands inspected the cotton sheets. His bones were heavy. 

_This is ... crazy._

A dark chuckle escaped him. 

_Insane. Just look where I am. Who **bans** the color **yellow**?_

His smile dropped and he rubbed his face. 

_Who makes deals with demons. **Literal** demons. _

He scoffed. 

 _Ford apparently._  

He rolled his eyes and kicked his head into his pillow. 

_And me. I do. Apparently. Like an idiot._

He stared into the blackness feeling bitter and cold. 

 _Such an idiot._  

A shiver ran through him. The room was cold and empty, but he was grateful to be sleeping anywhere at all. The odd physical rules of the nightmare realm had prevented the need for sleep. Last he remembered was the floor of the cave. And before that, the month long excursion on that ship. He was actually starting to think it had messed up his back. He'd hate to wonder how he'd feel in another twenty years or so. If he made it that long. 

What were they doing? Him and Ford. Running around the multi-verse. Landing in - military bases? Meeting monsters, and alternate versions of their self, and things like - like _Bill_. 

_What a stupid name._

Then again. It was just a word. Didn't mean anything in one dimension. Was the name of a nightmare demon in another. 

_Stupid, confusing, multi-verse._

Stan put a hand to his head. 

_Am I really gonna do this? What if I just ... didn't._

Stan forced himself to sit up. 

_Never mind. Might as well get this over with._

He tried to call the words to mind. 

_Wait, was it -_

He groaned. 

_I can't even remember the stupid incantation!_

Stanley dragged himself off the bed and went to turn the faucet off. The bathroom felt humid from the steam. Heaven compared to the frigid dry cold of the room. He took a moment to just breath. To let the warmth sink into him, and try not to think about all the many mistakes he kept making. 

He remembered something. Stan stepped out, brow furrowed, and walked over to the nightstand next to his bed. A pen and pad were sitting there. He was surprised he had picked up on the detail. But the rest of the room was so blank and dull, the green paper had been easy to catch.

Stanley sat back on the bed, legs giving out beneath him. Pulling off his glasses, he stuck the eye-patch back on - this time switching the black leather to cover his right eye. He looked, and stared down at the objects in his hands. Leaning back, Stan started to write words, crossing them out as he went. 

After a little work he had the full thing. Stanley paused. 

_What did Ford say? Everything will be okay? It'll all turn out?_

Stan stared down at his scribbles. His jaw clenched and he scoffed. 

_Not a chance. Nothing is okay. I honestly can't tell if it ever was._

Stan recited what he wrote.

Nothing happened. 

He dropped the pen and pad back onto the nightstand with a roll of his eyes. 

_Come on Cipher. It didn't even **do** anything._

***

_ There - Stanley _

He never would have thought high school geometry would ever be useful. But there Stanley Pines was being proved, once again, that he was wrong.

It wasn't like he had some magical problem he needed to solve to keep a mystical sphinx from eating him. It didn't even have anything to do with a time stakes mission and the trajectory of a sniper shot or something stupid like that.

No.

It was how easy he could get under Cipher's bricks with his basic understanding of some boring math.

"90 degrees! Do I _look_ like I have 90 degrees!"

"Cipher, you're so predictable I don't even need some stupid equation to find your hypotenuse,"

"90 degrees Fishbrains! I don't have 90 degrees! I am a being of pure energy that embodies _choas_! A _far_ cry from _predictable_!"

Stan felt smug. Using nerdiness to jest was right up his alley. He imagined Ford might be proud. Maybe. 

"Alright you isosceles dork. Whatever strokes your ego,"

"I am an equilateral! I have equal sides! EQUAL!"

"A squared, plus B squared equals Cipher's a square, you dork,"

"I have three EQUAL sides! You're an _idiot_!"

"Whatever Isosceles,"

"Don't you _dare_ call me that!"

Stan would never be able to rile the triangle up like this if he wasn't already in an irritable mood. Stan knew he was messing with fire, but he got such a pleasant thrill from annoying the yellow jerk. Served him right.

"Stanley Pines! If I could just get my hands in you, I'd make you scream in endless cries of _agony_!"

Stan rolled his eyes.

"Uh-huh. Like I haven't heard _that_ a dozen times,"

Cipher let out a huff of frustration and turned red. Stan felt a small stab of fear as the triangle bloated it's size to stagger _miles_ taller than Stan.

" **STANLEY PINES** \- !" Bill stopped. A single blink. Then another. He shrunk, his color returning back to normal. He floated over to Stan, a normal, unimpressive size. But his eyes gleamed with a wicked grin. "You're gonna get a kick out of this Fishbrains."

Their surroundings turned a dull gray as they entered the fringe of the mindscape. Stanley's stomach rolled.

"You think - ," Stanley ran a hand over his mouth and swallowed, throat painfully dry. He dropped his arm and glared up at the demon. "You think you _scare_ me?"

Cipher glanced at him with a wicked look. Before Stanley could respond, the scene lurched and he stumbled forward. Their surroundings changed as Bill willed the environment to shift.

Stanley saw his brother again standing outside in the snow, trudging through the woods alone. He saw Ford standing in his basement, eyes wild as he jerked his gaze across the room. Ford running from dark creatures in the night. Ford shrinking away from Bill. Ford being attacked by ghosts. Fighting a monster. Mending a bleeding, six-fingered hand.

Stanley glared up at Cipher.

"You're finished Cipher. One of these days - I'll _end_ you."

Bill laughed and hovered close.

"Just wait Fishbrains. You can't be 'invincible' forever."

Stan tried to give an unimpressed look. Bill smirked. He reached out a claw like hand and grazed it across Stan's back. Stanley sucked in a breath as an involuntary shiver rocked him. Bill cackled at his reaction. He pulled back his hand and with a flick of his wrist the intensity increased.

Stan breathed out and held himself tight as he swallowed back bile.

***

_ Now _

Yellow. Floating over him. Single eye glowing red. Memories. Dreams. Nightmares. Yells. Shouts. _Screams_.

_CLANG!_

Stan jerked.

He heaved and forced himself to sit up. He took in shuddering gasps and ran his fingers through his hair.

His was sight a hazy mess as his brain scrambled to make sense of the world. Stanley was laying on a bed. In a dull gray room with a single dresser, a desk, and a nightstand with a lamp. The memories of yesterday flooded back to him. He wasn't in the nightmare realm anymore. He leaned his head against his hand, letting out a shaky sigh of relief.

His breath caught in his throat. 

Stan noticed writing on the inside of his palm, and slowly he lowered his arm to read it.

'I like the eye-patch,'

He gritted his teeth and fell back on the bed, jaw clenched tight. Looking over he finally noticed the mangled remains of a metal chair. The door looked scratched up and dented. Stan groaned.

_I_ **_really_ ** _messed this all up._

His chest felt heavy. He closed his eyes and sat in the thick silence of the room. Stan shook his head.

But his limbs still felt like like hollow logs. Empty, and weighed down. The bitter sting of all his failures tasted like bile on his tongue, and made his ribs ache with sharp knives of guilt. Stanley had made all the wrong choices, every time. _Every time_. He felt so drained. He'd always  _tried_. And he messed up. _Every time_. It was exhausting. Doing the same things over and over, and expecting different results.

He glanced over at the chair, then turned over in his bed and curled in on himself. He hadn't even been conscious, but the feeling of possession lingered.

_So this is what that feels like._

He didn't like it. His hands ached. He could feel the bruises forming. His arms were sore, and a scratch on his leg stung. Stanley felt vile. His insides twisted with a warped sensation. He opened his eye and glanced at the door to the restroom. He needed a shower. A very long, very hot shower, while he still had the chance there in that dimension.

He wondered if this was how Stanford had felt all those long nights ago, in Gravity Falls. A part of him felt like he deserved to finally feel that way too. A heavy weight settled over him before he could gather the will to start for the day. He couldn't get over the dark guilt that kept gnawing at his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone says Isosceles, but isn't that where two sides are congruent? Which, yes Cipher is sometimes shaped like an Isosceles when he grows, but he's mostly an equilateral. So I'd think he'd be insulted by not being equal, and I just ... 
> 
> Using math to insult. Yep. Feels more like a Ford thing, but Stan's just the guy to take advantage of that. And he's smart too, even if he doesn't know advanced rocket science.
> 
> Of course, that's to his own chagrin, but - FIGHT BACK STANLEY! FIGHT BACK WITH WISECRACK INSULTS AND VAGUE THREATS YOU AREN'T SURE HOW YOU'LL FULFILL!
> 
> [This is annoying. Writing Stanley upset is annoying. I want him to tease people and be a goof, and overall make things FUN. And I can't. Because he's honest enough with Ford not to fake smile his way through their relationship. And it's a annoying. CHEER UP ALREADY, WOULD YA! Seriously what did I do? How am I supposed to get through this depressive garbage?]


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp. Stanley? Bill? I don't know what their feeling towards each other ARE persay, but I know it's complicated. With lots of fear and trepidation. Also, Stan most definitely got a handle on some mindscape know-how from - (enter spoiler here). So he has a few aces up his sleeve to threaten and protect himself with.

_ Now _

The dresser had dull plain clothes. He pulled out gray pants and a white tee. They fit suspiciously well and Stan spent a long minute staring at the fabric with narrowed eyes.

He took the top page off the notepad and ripped it to shreds. Then, just to be safe, he took the next two to prevent anyone from catching the pen's indents. He flushed them down the toilet. 

He'd scrubbed his hand raw in the shower, but went to the sink and finished the job. It was less out of paranoia, and more out of sheer frustration. That became far too evident as his thumb dug into his skin while he grit his teeth against the intrusive thoughts. 

He turned off the sink and ran a wet hand through his hair. His reflection stared back at him. Clear as crystal. He rolled his eye, then glanced back. Reaching up, he slid the leather patch from his left to his right. Stanley straightened and headed for the door. 

The busted door. With dents. He kicked the warped metal chair to the side, phantom aches surfacing as he imaged hacking away all night. For the first time that morning Stanley glanced at his exit with a new question brimming in his mind. Reaching out, he twisted the knob. 

It stuck tight. He tried again. Nothing. 

_What the heck's wrong with my door?_

He jiggled the handle, indents in his palms flaring up as his body remembered the familiar action. Stanley pulled back. 

_They locked me in ..._

Stan crossed his arms with narrowed eyes. Glancing around, he wondered if there was some sort of key, or pad lock, or a security code ... 

Something beeped. Shifting towards the noise, Stanley leaned into a glowing blue panel he hadn't noticed earlier. He scrunched his nose with distaste as he took in the 08:00 that flashed at him. There was a click of metal and the beeping stopped, the panel fading back to its dull digital color that blended with the walls. Stan let his arms drop to his sides and he looked back at the door. Biting the inside of his cheek, he reached for the knob and pulled. 

It opened. 

_What - what was_ **_that_ ** _?_

He shook his head and entered the hall. He froze as all along his corridor half a dozen people exited all at the same time. No one seemed concerned and in fact, they all strode to their destination with sure movements. Some gave him half a glance, and others went a step further to check over their shoulder at the door left of Stanley's. 

Stanford's room. 

Stan shut his door behind him and went over to his brother's. He tried to ease the scowl off his features, but each attempt only made his mood worse. He clenched his hands into fists, then breathed out and relaxed. He reached out for the knob, but stopped as it began to turn. The door opened, and Stan stepped back. 

He froze. Staring at him were two black slitted, yellow eyes. They blinked, one then the other. 

The door slammed shut. 

Stan stood, body suspended and tense. 

_Cipher - Moron!_

_**Why didn't I think of this?** _

He swallowed and threw a look over his shoulder at the passersby. Turning back he went to open the door. It wouldn't budge. He tried again, throwing his shoulder into it, trying to be subtle. There was a distressed yelp from the other side. He got a few strange looks. Stan pushed at the entrance again, when it gave way and he stumbled inside. The heavy metal swung closed behind him and he looked up to see Ford step back, eyes wide. 

Yellow eyes wide. Yellow, black slitted eyes.

Safe inside, Stan's face screwed up in anger. 

"CIPHER!"

Bill scrambled back and went for Ford's metal desk chair. Stan stopped, and took a moment to blink as he looked around the room. It _was_ just like his. With the exception of a chalk board and walls covered to the brim in notes and equations - a large marker obvious on the dresser. Stanley shook his head and focused back on the demon. Bill picked up the chair, then lurched. He seemed surprised by the weight of it. Stan came forward. 

"Put that down! Cipher, _get out of him_!" 

Bill got his bearings and swung his weapon at Stanley. To his surprise Stan caught the leg. Bill tugged it back, but Stanley held firm. 

"Ci - ,"

Bill tugged again. Stan tugged back. 

" _Bill Cipher._ " he pulled the chair out of Bill hands. 

Bill raced around the bed for the bathroom door. Stan threw the seat aside and chased after him. 

"You were supposed to stay away from him!"

Bill had his hand on the knob before Stan caught his arm and pinned him to the wall. 

"That was the deal! You were supposed to stay away!"

"You idiot. Did you really think I wouldn't take advantage of this?"

"Yes! I mean no! I mean - you know what I mean! We had an understanding!"

"Let _go_ of me you oaf."

"Get _out_ of him."

"Or what?"

Stan leveled him with a glare. Bill returned it with equal intensity. They had a standoff. Bill broke first and turned his gaze away.

"Like your meatsack is any better."  he mumbled.

" _Out_."

Bill whipped his head back to Stan. 

"You're top heavy. You know that?"

Stan's lip curled in contempt and he let go of Cipher. Bill eased a safer distance away and rubbed his wrists. 

"Thanks for summoning me. Nice to know your not just an idiot, but a gullible one too."

Stan took an threatening step forward and Bill stepped back. 

"The only reason I went through with it is 'cause of that salamander, so knock it off."

"I find it so _funny_ that you think you can trust it."

"Never said I _did_. Now get outta Ford! I swear if you did anything - ,"

"Relax." Bill dusted himself off. "Fordsy is fine. Sleeping." He eyed Stanley with a cautious smile. "Enjoying a nightmare or two."

Stan glared at him again. Bill glared right back. This time Stan turned away. He looked at the floor, hands clenched into fists. Bill stepped forward, and then to both of their surprise he leapt at Stan.

They crumpled under the sudden attack and grappled on the ground. Bill surged for Stan's throat, expression twisted in rage. Stanley caught his arms. Bill's elbow jammed into his side and he wheezed.

"C-cipher - ! Get - get _off_ me - !" His head was swimming. He struggled to keep the six fingers from wrapping around his neck. His brother was too close. But it wasn't Ford - it was Bill. It was _Cipher_. He had to keep them straight in his head, but the weight of Ford's body crushing him, the anger in his brother's features. If it wasn't for the bright yellow eyes that glared at him with that intense hatred -

Bill saw the panic in Stan's eyes and let out an unhinged laugh. Almost a giggle. He tried to free a hand and swing out with a fist, but the demon was uncoordinated. Stan caught it in his grasp and made to push Bill away.

They separated. Each scrambled apart and moved as far from the other as possible. Bill stared, eyes wide, expecting Stanley to come after him. Stan sat, breathing heavy, shaken by the physical encounter. He swallowed, and glared at Cipher, daring him to say something. To attack again, or make a move.

Stan rubbed his chest to ease his nerves.

"Stay away from me."

Cipher shot him a toothy grin.

"You're not so protected when I'm in Six Finger's body."

" _Back off_." He held out a wary hand, and tried to keep his voice level. "Just - just stay away. Or I'll come for you in the mindscape."

A flicker of fear flashed in Bill's eyes. He gritted his teeth.

"Have fun with Fordsy today." He sneered. "And I'm sure this'll be just the _perfect_ wake up call."

Before Stan could do anything else, the yellow eyes rolled and Ford's body slumped to the ground.

***

_ There - Stanley _

The ground fell out beneath him and Stan plummeted back into the darkness. He wouldn't have minded. The dark didn't frighten Stanley. If anything it made him feel safer.

But it was quiet. And he was all alone. Floating without the use of his senses. Deserted with his thoughts. It's oppressive atmosphere suffocating him with his own mind.

He hated it. He couldn't breath, he wanted out.

He had to wait.

And then he didn't.

Light entered his vision. He almost regret the change. Stuck in the blackness would have been a small price to pay for a reprieve against Cipher. But instead of the nightmare chaos of colors that he expected to overload his sight, he was greeted with a calmer blend of pastels. Stan looked around confused.

**Hello Stanley Pines. Come in, you look like you could use my** **beanbag chair.**

"What?" Stan whirled and found himself face to face with a humongous ... _something_. "Wha - ? What is this!"

**Calm down. Sit, relax. This meeting won't be able to hold long.**

Stan didn't know what to think. He had no idea what was going on. His surroundings were strange - r than normal. He swallowed, heart racing as he tried to think. And then he realized ... it was just another of Bill's jokes.

He calmed down after that, embarrassed by his immediate reaction, but proud he was able to figure it out so quickly. He glanced to his side and found that - yes, there was a beanbag chair.

"Don't mind if I do," he plopped onto it. He'd play along.

Glancing around he took in his surroundings. His right eye twitched. His vision turned hazy and a sharp pressure entered behind his eyes. "Ack!" He shoved his fists into his sockets and rode out the sudden wave of pain.

**Your eyes aren't made for my dimension.**

"What? Ah, yeesh! No, duh!" Stan gritted his teeth.

_Stupid eyeballs. Useless I tell ya. What do_ _I_ _need eyes for, eh? What does_ _**anybody** _ _need eyes for!_

He let up on the pressure with his fist, but kept his lids closed.

"So, who the heck are you?"

**I am the Axolotl.**

"Uh-huh, sure. What do you want?"

**I wish** **to** **inform you of the special opportunity you have found yourself with.**

"My what?"

**You are in the** **unlikely** **position to cause great change if** **you** **wished.**

"Am I now? Are we talking the invention of pancakes, or the future of the multi-verse here?"

**The future of** **the** **multi-verse.**

"Wait, seriously? I was just kidding!"

**I am not. My humor manifests** **in** **riddles.**

" ... right,"

***

The world went dark again. He was falling. Falling up. Back. Back towards Bill, and the nightmare realm, and everything he dreaded to see. His world stopped spinning and he looked around.

Cipher floated above him, the single eye piercing Stanley's very being.

"You spoke to the Axolotl," Bill's voice was quiet. Dangerous.

It must have all been real, hadn't it?

Stan swallowed. Cipher waited there a moment, the tension building. Then he came no more than an inch closer.

" _Tell me what it wanted_ ,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I need to get around to finally thanking any and all comments, kudos, and just anyone reading. The comments make me scared of my inbox - but I love them. For some reason they're always positive? People are NICE? That's a THING? And at times helpful. Hearing what you think of my story helps me orient my mind to reader, and put myself in a place to catch plot holes, things that aren't quite clear, and what would be most satisfying to see. And also the review of my writing itself - for instance - way back in BLIND, my dialogue was a confusing mess, but thanks to an awesome person I never responded to - because (Well because whY? I have no excuses; bad ME!) - I've tried to make it clearer. So thanks everyone. Thanks for reading it - thanks for kudos if you gave them. And if you hate my story - though I can't think why if you've made it to part three? Then comment why as constructively as you could because I need to improve. 
> 
> But even if your creeping through this just reading - if you found this today and binged like a hundred thousand words - trust me been there, it's so fun - than thanks for joining me in this - sometimes I think terrible, but eh, it's adequate (almost all writers think they're terrible) - experience. 
> 
> These boys are just go gah! - and I just need to keep searching for an even better way to make this feel even better to read to explain that - working on it!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna say all this for anyone who isn't into it and just wants to skip to the present day. This entire chapter is just one very long, very self-indulgent flashback from WHEN as in 'before the science fair fight and all that, and separating for ten years, and then falling in the portal for another 30, and basically the mess that is their life.' There isn't anything that progresses the story because that's still in the workshop. It's all flashback, and it's not even the flashbacks that have actual impact on what happens in NOW. Just Fluff. Just pure fluff. Mostly. Shenanigans and what-not. Bits I had written, and wasn't sure how I would include them. I will also say that some of these are inspired from real life experiences with my sibling because sometimes we remind me of them just so much. It's actually annoying because thinking of these two makes my brain explode a little every time - sometimes they're just so - ! Also, I think it's important to note that with a sibling dynamic like theirs - Stanley wouldn't be the only one who pulls tricks and stuff. Ford would have definitely got in on it too. But Stanley would definitely have had a monopoly on it.

_ When _

They sat on opposite ends of the couch, their legs doing their best to respect the other's space. Stan's eyes were glued to the TV and Ford had a book open in his hands. Ford grimaced.

"That looked like it hurt,"

Stan didn't look away as he said,

"You readin' or are you watchin' Sixer?"

Ford blinked and looked back at his book. Slowly he closed it and sat up straighter.

"Watching I guess. But curse the plot for being so riveting. And curse Henry for being such a dense fool," he glanced back down at the cover. "I mean what idiot wouldn't see through all those lies that lizard monster is hypnotizing him with?"

"Quiet. I can't hear what their saying,"

Ford shuffled towards the other side of the couch and leaned against Stan. He was surprised when his brother slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer instead of shoving him off. Another second and Ford let out an exasperated sighed.

"Lee. I would really like if you please just wouldn't - ,"

Stan grabbed Ford by his hair and shoved his face in his armpit. Ford scrambled away, an annoyed look of disgust and irritation clear.

"I knew it! I knew you'd ruin it! Why can't we ever just sit together without you pulling something?"

Stan grinned, eyes never leaving the screen.

"Too resisting. Shh. I think he's about to get murdered,"

Ford sank back into his side of the couch.

"One day you'll get murdered," he grumbled.

Stan smirked.

"Sixer. You're the only one who has permission to end me,"

"Why - ? Why would you ever - ? _Lee_ ,"

Stan only smiled wider.

***

***

Ford sat at his desk writing a list.

Stan stepped behind him and in one swift movement jammed his face near Ford's ear, breath heavy on his cheek, and yelled

"Greenbeenstamotoespataters!"

Ford stiffened, eyes closed, waiting for it to end. Stan stopped and walked over to the bed. Ford blinked then went back to work.

***

***

"Anyways, I think Thursday should give me plenty of time to finish the first draft of the script,"

Stan poked Ford's face. The boy Ford was talking to nodded.

"Thursday, got it. I'll tell Jenny,"

Stan poked Fords face again.

"I'll make sure to give it to you in English. Then you two can look over it . Correct it, or make any changes,"

Stan started a steady rhythm. His finger bounced in time to some soundless beat.

"Jenny said she wanted to add a bit of a dramatic flourish,"

Ford's grimaced.

"For herself I hope?"

Stan started to bob his head in time with the beat, even going so far as adding another finger to Ford's face.

"Not sure. You'll have to ask her yourself - are you going to do something about that?" The boy Ford was talking to - Joel - pointed to Stan.

Without looking, Fords hand lashed out and caught Stan's wrist. He looked at his brother who was giving him a grin. They both stared there, Ford expression amused. Then slowly, still holding Stan's wrist captive, he reached up - and took hold of Stan's nose. Stan's eyes narrowed.

"Whetcha doin' Sifer?" He voice came out in as nasal tone as Ford had his nose.

Ford just grinned. A moment passed. Two. The brothers starred each other down. Stan's eyes were narrowed, but Ford's grin only grew wider. Fed up, Stan swatted Fords hand away and snatched back his wrist.

"You're so weird Sixer,"

Ford scoffed.

"Yeah, _I'm_ the weird one." He turned back to Joel. "Thursday good then?"

Joel looked between the two. He gave a hesitant nod.

"Uh yeah. Yeah Thursday. See you then thanks," he stood up straighter and waved as he walked away.

Stan grabbed Ford's nose. Ford stared at him, brow raised. A moment passed. Two. Stan snatched back his hand and wiped it on his pants.

"Ug, why do you _do_ that? It's weird,"

Ford shrugged. He reached for Stan's nose, but his brother ducked his head. Ford reached again and Stan swatted his hand away. Ford paused. He tried again, movements sure, not even trying to be quick about it. Stan swatted it.

"Cut it out,"

"Come on Lee. Let me hold your nose,"

"No. It's weird,"

"You're weird,"

"You're even weirder, you freak,"

Ford laughed. A mild laugh that fell to a small chuckle. Stan rolled his eyes, but smiled with him.

"You're so stupid,"

Ford only grinned wider.

***

***

Something fell out of Ford's locker.

"Whatcha got there Sixer?"

Ford picked it up.

"Looks like a note," he opened it.

_Dear_ _Stanford_ _Pines,_

_Meet me tomorrow outside behind the bleachers at 11:45._

_With Love,_

_Marisa Arnolds_

Ford stared at it in shock. Stan read the words over Ford's shoulder.

"Whoa, you got a note from a girl!"

"Wha - Stan, shh!" He folded the note and hid it behind his back. "That's - it's not - don't just - !"

"Hey wait a sec," Stan swung around and snatched the note out of Ford's fingers. "Marisa Arnolds? No way she's into you,"

" _Stan_! Give that back!" Ford grabbed for it.

Stan held it out of reach.

"Don't be stupid Sixer. I know for for a fact that Marisa Arnolds said she was into _me_ ,"

"You're being juvenile Stanley," Ford jumped for the paper.

Stan snatched it back.

"Okay, so maybe that was a lie," he looked at the paper again. "Doesn't mean she isn't into - well actually - hm ... ,"

Ford caught the note out of Stan's hands.

"Don't touch things that aren't yours. And mind your own buisness!"

Stan rolled his eyes.

"If I didn't mind my buisness how would I know that Jeremy Patfolk is - ,"

"I don't _care_ Stan,"

The bell rung. Ford shot Stan a frown and headed for their next class.

"Hey wait Stanford!" Stan run after him. "If I minded my own business, how would I know that 11:45 is 5th period and second lunch at the same time and that - ,"

"Cut it _out_ ," Ford hissed.

They stepped into class just as the last bell wrung.

"Ford, seriously," Stan put his backpack on his desk next to Ford's. "Marisa Arnolds?"

"I'm not listening to you Stan. Be quiet. Some people wish to learn in the establishment built for that very purpose,"

"So you're not going?"

Ford glowered at Stan.

"I will do whatever I like and it is none of your business,"

Stan crossed his arms.

"You're gonna be difficult then? Okay, then I will _too_ ,"

"What? You're being stupid,"

"I'm not stupid Stanford,"

"You call me stupid and dumb and idiot all the time!"

"That's different,"

Ford shook his head.

"You know what? Nevermind," he planted himself forward and got out his notebook.

"You're gonna regret not sharing with me your private information that isn't my buisness!" Stan stuck his tongue out at Ford.

Ford rolled his eyes.

"You're so juvenile. And you're terrible at being ominous,"

"Stop using big words to confuse me,"

"I'm _not_ \- ,"

"Stanford,"

"Here,"

"Stanley,"

"Here,"

***

Stanley went up to his mom.

"Hey ma. Do you have a giant container that's small enough to fit in my backpack?"

She wrinkled her nose.

"Are going to take something to school again?"

"Yep!"

"Will the principal call me?"

"Nope - ,"

"Let me rephrase. If you somehow someway - no matter how fool-proof you think whatever goes on in that head of yours is - get _caught_. Will the principal call me?"

"Well possession _is_ nine tenths of the law - ,"

"Are you _stealing_ something - ?"

"I'm _kidding_. No, there shouldn't be any disciplinary action unless the universe hates me and things go horribly, horribly, _horribly_ wrong,"

His mom sighed.

"Well that's one more horribly than usual,"

"So do you have a container?"

His mom reached down and dug around in a cupboard.

"Here,"

Stan snatched it out of her hands.

"Thanks ma!"

"Don't get caught!" She called. "I have an appointment tomorrow!"

Filbrick walked into the kitchen.

"What is he doing now?"

"The less I know, the better. Ask Stanford,"

***

"Hey, have you seen my small blanket Stan?"

"Yep,"

"Oh, great. Where'd you see it?"

"In tomorrow,"

"What?"

"Tomorrow. As in - I threw it in your time machine and it'll pop up in tomorrow,"

Ford let out a heavy sigh.

"Okay first of all - it's _your_ time machine that you 'gave me' when you got bored of it. Second of all - I don't want you using my small blanket. You'll get it dirty,"

"Sorry Ford. But I need it for camouflage. It's for your own good,"

"Stan!"

"Whelp - now I need to go use the hose. Wish me luck! For your own sake Sixer,"

"Stan! Tell me where you put my blanket!"

***

He was nervous. He had half a mind to just go to lunch. It's not like he was going to do anything. He just didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings.

At least Stan wasn't around. He'd been worried his brother was up to something. He hoped he got his blanket back in one piece.

He walked over to the bleachers and took a wide look around. He couldn't see Stan, or anyone else. He looked _on_ the bleachers, but all he saw were a bunch of forgotten bags and jackets. He breathed in. So far, so good.

He went over to the back of the bleachers and looked around. He looked at the note and then at his watch. 11:46. The perfect mix of on time and not _too_ on time. His eyes wandered all across the field, but he didn't see a girl of any kind - let alone Marisa Arnolds.

And then he heard a pair of laughs come from _inside_ the twists of the metal holding up the bleachers. He whirled and saw two boys step out, laughing.

"Well look who it is. Stanford Pines. What are _you_ doing here?"

Ford's eyes widened and he eased back and away. A hand found its way on his shoulder and he jumped. He turned his head to see another boy behind him.

"Ha! Look guys! Four eyes, six fingers. He's awfully nervous,"

The grip on his shoulder tightened.

Ford jerked away.

"I - I was just leaving,"

The three of them laughed.

"Were you?"

"Yeah. Don't you wanna see _Marisa Arnolds_?"

Ford felt his stomach drop. He was gonna be sick. It was a lie. The note was a ruse.

"N-no. I - I was just _leaving_ ," he swallowed and turned to go.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him to the ground. Ford let out a gasp, more so in surprise and fear. He was on the floor and the three of them were staring down and him with unkind grins on their face. Ford gulped.

And then the strangest thing happened. One of the three boys jumped with a sputter.

"Wha - !"

Another one jumped too.

"Gah! What was that?"

The other jumped and looked around with wild eyes.

"Is this - water?"

They all looked up. Something small sailed from the sky and landed on another one of their heads.

"Hey!"

"Score! Eat waterballoons you jerks!"

Ford looked up to see Stan tossing water-balloons down at them from on top of the bleachers. The three boys covered their heads with their arms in a useless attempt to shield themselves.

"It's the other one!"

"Get him!"

Ford looked up to see Stan's smug smile slip.

"Uh-oh," he scrambled down the bleachers and took off running. "Catch me if you can, you jerks! I know your PE mile scores!"

Ford watched dumbfounded as they chased after his brother. They ran all the way across the field and rounded the corner, out of sight.

Ford sat on the ground, confused, hurt, and surprised. A long moment passed, till he realized they might come back. Ford scrambled to his feet and headed for the cafeteria.

***

Stan missed the rest of the day. By the time the last bell wrung Ford was scared out of his mind. If something happened to Stan - it was all his faut!

(Well maybe not _all_ his fault. For instance what was Stan thinking? Was he trying to ruin a meet up with a girl, or did he know it was a trick, and if so why didn't he warn Ford?)

Finally as all the kids filed out of the school, Ford hung back. He saw Stan sauntering down the hall in his direction.

"Lee! Are you alright? Where were you?"

Stan smiled and waved.

"Oh, hey Ford. Yeah, I'm great, you?"

"What happened? Where were you? What were you _thinking_?"

"Relax Ford. Yeesh. Hey, come with me, K? I need to grab my stuff. I left it on the bleachers,"

Ford sputtered for a few seconds and then finally just hung his head.

"Fine. Let's go,"

They headed out to the bleachers and Stan explained it all.

"See, Marisa Arnolds is dating Jeremy Patfolk. And she doesn't even have second lunch. Plus, that's not her handwriting,"

"How do you - ?"

"Before she started dating Jeremy, I started flirting with her. Now she sends me death threats,"

"You mean when you stole her chemistry notes and replaced them with a thousand smiley faces on random pieces of small ripped paper?"

"Yep. Good times,"

"Oie,"

"Here's your small blanket. I didn't ruin it,"

"Thanks,"

"No problem,"

"And Lee?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For all this. Thanks,"

Stan grinned.

"No problem. Look I even found a quarter when I locked myself in the janitors closet! Karma does exist!"

"If Karma existed you'd be in jail,"

"No. _Multiple_  jails,"

Ford snorted.

"Whatever. Thanks though. And you're a real genius Stanley,"

"You think?"

"Sure do. Come on. Let's go to the candy store. You're buying,"

"Hey! Save a guys life,"

"My life wasn't in jeopardy Stan,"

"Well one of these days it just might. With the way you carry on, it's a wonder you've survived so long,"

"What'll I do without you?"

"Go nut-job insane,"

"Right,"

"I'm completely serious,"

***

"Hey Pa?"

Filbrick look up from his paper. Ford walked closer to his father.

"I was wondering if I could get a ride maybe an hour earlier to school tomorrow. Our class is doing this project for our sixth grade assessment and two other students and I were picked to do our own special introduction for it. We were given all day tomorrow to work on it, but we _only_ have tomorrow. I thought, maybe if we could get a head start and get to school around six when Mrs. Daubson does ... ," he gave his father an expectant look.

Filbrick gave his son a once over, then flicked his paper and went back to reading.

"Stanley has to get up just as early as you then. I'm not some taxi service. I'm only driving to your school twice tomorrow. None of this back and forth nonsense,"

Ford pumped his fist.

"Yes! Thanks Pa!" He ran out of the room as his Mother walked in.

"Dear, I think one of the boys may have taken a twenty out of my wallet. Could you lend me another one?"

Filbrick rolled his eyes.

"The boys didn't take it, you spent it on that dress,"

She looked down and examined the fabric she was wearing. Then she stood straighter, expression indignant.

"I did not. I specifically remember having it in my purse _yesterday_ ,"

"Because you spent it _yesterday_ ,"

"Filbrick Pines. Are you calling me a liar?"

At the other end of the house a shout was heard.

"I have to get up _how_ early?! Because of YOU?!"

Ma Pines turned and shouted at them.

"No yelling in the house!"

Filbrick rolled his eyes.

"Don't yell dear,"

Ma Pines scoffed.

"A lady doesn't _yell_ ,"

"Then don't shout,"

" _Filbrick Pines_. Are you _calling_ _me_ a liar?"

"Yes dear. It's pathological,"

***

"Hey, come with me,"

Ford glanced at Stan.

"Where?"

"I gotta turn in my homework,"

"What, _now_? School 's over. Why didn't you turn it in before?"

"It wasn't done before. I gotta turn it in or I don't get a grade for it. Come with me,"

"No, I'm gonna go to the car,"

"No, come with me!"

"I don't feel like it Stan,"

"It'll only take a second, come _on_ ,"

"I'll go make sure dad doesn't leave without us,"

"Ford, come with me,"

"I don't _feel_ like it Stan,"

"Arg! You're so annoying,"

"That's not - look, I just don't feel like it. I wanna go home. It's friday,"

"It'll only take, like a minute. Seriously Ford come on,"

"I'm just not in the mood. I don't wanna walk all the way over there,"

"It's not even that far!"

"I don't feel like it. I'm going to the car,"

"Arg! I hate you,"

"Sorry. I just really don't feel like it. I'm not going,"

"Whatever," Stan stormed off.

"Sorry," Ford walked in the opposite direction.

***

"Hey, did you see my paddle ball?"

Ford looked up from his book.

"No," he was sitting on his bunk and went back to reading.

"Are you sure? I thought I left it on your bed,"

Stan stood on the lower bunk to peer over at Ford's blankets.

"Coulda sworn ... ," he stepped down and dug through his own covers. "I didn't leave it in the bathroom ... or the living room ... did I?" Stan scratched the back of his head. He stepped out of the room.

Ford watched him go. He went back to reading. A minute or so later Stan walked back in and started digging through the dresser. He picked up clothes off the ground and threw them back down when nothing was underneath.

"Did Ma touch it?" He went to the closet and looked on the shelf. He frowned when he still didn't see it. He stood in the middle of the room and did a small spin. "Where ... ?" He stopped and scratched his head. "Last I remember ... maybe I'll go ask Ma," he stepped back out of the room.

Ford followed Stan's exit with his eyes. He went back to reading. He could faintly hear his mother's voice.

"I haven't seen it Stanley. I'm not your maid. You need to keep track of your things,"

Another few minutes passed. Ford turned the page. The action started to build in his story. Stan walked back into the room.

"Seriously, where did it go?" He stood in the doorway, face twisted in concentration. "Last I remember ... I left it on your bed. Where did it go? Ford, you sure you didn't see it?"

Ford didn't respond. He didn't even look up from his book.

"Oie. Earth to nerd," Stan walked over and leaned against the dresser. He snapped his fingers. " _Ford_ ,"

Ford didn't look up. He stared down at his page. Stan narrowed his eyes. Ford lips twitched, and his face turned a slight shade of pink. Stan's eyes roamed Ford's sheets. He stopped.

"Oie!" He jumped onto his bunk and yanked his paddle ball from beneath Ford's pillow. "You jerk!"

Ford's face dissolved into a grin he was having a hard time concealing. Stan wacked him over the head with his paddle ball.

"Ow!" Ford rubbed the back of his head, but he was chuckling.

Stan growled.

"You made me feel like I was losing my mind, ya jerk,"

Ford laughed harder.

"I couldn't help myself,"

"I hate you,"

Ford closed his book and leaned on his pillow grinning.

"You love me and you know it,"

"I hate you! I absolutely _hate_ you,"

Ford watched Stan walk out of their room.

"Love you too Stan,"

"I hate you!" He yelled back.

Their mothers voice came in from across the building.

"No yelling in the house!"

Ford bit his lip, smile stretching wide. He took a moment, then went back to his book, grin still firmly in place.

***

"What did you - ? _Stanley_!" Ford whipped his head around to see Stan retreating past the corner. "Why would you even - ? Don't turn my bag inside out!"

Stan snickered. Ford clenched his jaw and started pulling out his books.

"You're insufferable!"

"You're a nerd!"

" _Stanley_!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be on the safe side -  
> Warnings for: Needles and Puking

_There_

He looked between his notes and Marlia's, doing one last check.

"Dr. Pines, I think this is as close as we're going to get."

He glanced up at Marlia, mouth pressed in a firm line. His eyes wandered back to the words and equations. He turned to the other table and picked a few papers up from there too. She stepped in front of him and gently tried to pull the parchment out his hands. He held on tighter.

"W-w- _wait_ \- ,"

She plucked them out the rest of the way and stepped back.

"You can focus on the circuit boards if you must, but for heaven's sake stop pouring over these." she tucked them under her arm and walked to the end of the room. There she typed in a password and entered the blocked off room.

Ford rubbed his chest with a grimace, then followed after her. Inside Vestra was staring at the Tesseract. She looked up when both scientists came in.

"Oh, good. Are we ready to begin?"

Marlia's face grew flush and she fumbled to look over the papers under her arm.

"Um, yes. We - we should be good to go. Theoretically this should be a very successful trial. But even in failure the results it'll yield will be ... incalculable."

Ford's throat went dry and he began wringing his hands as he eyed the small cube, his heartbeat rising. Marlia glanced at him and rushed to correct herself.

"Not to say that it won't perform properly. I'm sure it will. Everything is in it's place. We've done the math. This ... this should work."

Vestra gave Ford a warm smile.

"Don't worry too much Stanford. You've toiled hard. This is sure to get your brother back."

Ford swallowed and looked away.

"I h-h-hope s-s-so."

Vestra clapped her hands.

"Alright. Then let's get started."

***

The senator watched as the two scientists went over a few last checks. They closed the door and dead-bolted it, before turning to the small cube. Through a series of connected wires, they attached the machine to a pedestal they had brought in. Marlia held her hand out to Ford.

"The bond-link?"

Ford paused, then reached into his coat and grabbed out his journal. He stood a moment and admired it's gold adornment and red bound cover. Then, slowly, he handed it over. Marlia took it and nodded, sensing the importance of the object.

"This should find him. Coupled with the specifications we - ,"

"Y-yes. Y-yes I k-know." He waved her off then crossed his arms, lips pursed. He needed this to work. The book wouldn't survive the process twice, and it was the only thing even _close_ to something he had of Stanley's. It _had_ to work. "J-j-just ... j-just d-do it."

Marlia bit her lip, but turned and started connecting more wires.

As Ford watched, his mind went to a time when he had been _desperate_ to maintain that same book. When it's existence had warranted enough anger to start a fight with his brother. And now here he was, prepared to destroy the thing, to get Stanley back.

The irony did not escape him.

***

A dim blue glow echoed from the Tesseract. All three occupants in the room stared transfixed on the ethereal sight sitting in front of them. The cube whirred as it activated and gravity gave way.

The three hooked their feet into metal slots welded into the floor, but the Tesseract floated a few inches off it's table. Across from it the journal also rose into the air. Both began to spin.

Marlia's critical eye took in every detail, the scientist in her fascinated by what she had achieved. Vestra's eyes were wide, and they gleamed with a hungry satisfaction. Her hand itched to reach out and pluck the powerful object from the air. But she restrained herself and watched it emanate an energy unlike anything she had ever seen. Ford's heart pounded away in his chest.

A beam exited the cube. It split in two and cut perpendicular through the room. A pair of portals opened, each out of focus with hazy static. The flood of light grew in pitch and all three of them put up an arm to cover their eyes.

It dimmed, and one of the portals seemed to - glitch - as an image came into view. The other struggled to stay formed. It's picture was a shaky black, and then collapsed in on itself till only a small ball of blue energy was left floating against the wall. The remaining portal stayed wide.

Ford's heart caught in his throat as the mass of colors displayed came into view. He recognized it. His hands clenched into shaking fists as he watched the portal pan across the nightmare dimension.

No one spoke.

The Tesseract connected with the journal, and it's red cover disintegrated to reveal the mess of pages inside. Bit by bit the book disappeared. It circled around the edge of the gateway to the nightmare realm, and guided its passage through the turbulent chaos. The tunnel like view zoomed past dozens of objects. It weaved around rocks, and creatures, and nightmares of lawless discord.

Stanley came into view.

Ford's heart soared. His brother's back was turned to him, but he was there. He was there, Ford could see him. He had him in view!

Ford looked, and he realized his brother was talking to something. Or ... someone.

Bill Cipher.

Ford swallowed, face to face with the triangle. He thought he caught the yellow demon's gaze and froze. Cipher did too. His single eye widened as he took in the image of the portal. Stanley saw the change and turned to see what it was about. His brother's face twisted in confusion.

"What is that thing?" his voice was warbled and distorted through the plane across dimensions.

Cipher giggled. He _giggled_.

Ford was horrified. They needed to shut it down. They needed to turn it off - _now_.

Stanley needed to get through first.

Ford tried to call out for his brother, but he couldn't speak. The words welled in his chest and choked him. The two woman next to him stared on, entranced by the whole situation. Each frozen by their own terror in the break of reality.

Cipher raced for the entrance, hands outstretched like a giddy child. Ford flinched back, nerves ablaze as he waited for Bill to come through. Cipher's face crashed with the gateway, and he bounced back. A scream of rage left him.

" _What_! What is this!"

Ford let out a small sob of relief, and heard it echoed in his companions. He glanced at his journal and found comfort in the fact that, unless there was a Unicorn or some such over there, Stanley was the only one who could come through.

But Stanley was stepping away. He was backing up, trying to leave. Panic rose in Ford's chest, until the image moved - traveled almost - to stand in front of his brother. Stan stopped, clearly confused, and balked at coming any closer. Ford was able to get out his name.

"S-S-Stanley!"

Nothing happened. The portal still pulsed, Stan still stood, expression searching, and Cipher still floated closer in the background. Ford whipped his head to Marlia. They exchanged a glance and the Scientist came back to herself. She straightened her glasses.

"I - I believe the telecommunication is one-way. I - I don't think - I don't think they can hear or see us ... ,"

"Get away from there!"

They all jumped at Bill shrieking demand - Stanley included. Ford watched as his brother took a step back, and he made an involuntary move forward as a consequence. Bill stretched out his hand and the portal zoomed away from Stanley and stood in front of Cipher, his single eye taking up the whole image. Through a series of hand gestures from Bill, the portal glowed a spectrum of colors. The three of them in the room gave each other another series of nervous glances.

Still nothing happened. Marlia went forward and stretched out a hand for the cube. Ford jerked forward and caught her wrist. She couldn't shut it down. They needed to get Stanley out first. They only had the one chance. They couldn't do it again, they needed to get him _now_.

The portal lit up like fireworks. They all covered their eyes as it exploded in light and colors. A series of small popping explosions went off then -

Nothing.

Gravity reasserted itself. The portal closed, the cube shut off.

Ford heart pounded in his chest and he stared frozen at an empty wall, horrified.

***

It was wrong. It was all wrong. Everything was wrong.

"Dr. Pines. Calm down. We just want to help,"

Ford's head snapped to stare at the man. He took a trembling step back. He had to get out of there. He had to leave. He couldn't let them take him.

"Dr. Pines, please. Co-operate with us. We just want to help,"

Ford turned around and ran. He opened the nearest sliding door with his key card and slipped past.

There were dozens more people on the other side. Ford balked - the cafeteria! He shouldn't be there. Too many people, they would surround him in a second. Ford raced across the room before anyone could think to move. Behind him he saw security chasing closer. They pointed to a group as they ran.

"D-4 recruits! New training exercise! Detain Stanford Pines!"

Ford slid to a stop in front of another door. He all but tore his lanyard from his neck and swiped the keycard over the scanner.

He needed to leave. He needed to get out of there. He couldn't be apart of this. The eyes. They wanted this. They laughed at seeing Ford again, but he couldn't! He couldn't let them come! He couldn't be the one to help Vestra! He needed to leave!

He headed down the hall. He knew where he wanted to be. The lockup. He could get out of from there. If he could just reach it before they went for their guns.

Ford skidded to a halt. Three more people - two woman, one teenage boy. Did it matter? Maybe. Maybe it all mattered. Maybe he should be paying attention to the white paint on the ceiling. Or the third hallway he scrambled into. Maybe the floor plan he had memorized to a T because despite how comfortable they'd made him feel, his eyes still took everything in. Catagorized it. Looked for the dangers, the possibilities.

Now it was all coming to the forefront if his mind. He couldn't let them take him. He needed to leave. He needed to get out of there.

A hand caught his wrist from behind. Ford's jerked away, body moving to shove his attacker off.

"Dr. Pines, stop!"

A woman. Hands wrapped in tight strong cloth - part of her uniform, chosen to help the impact of her punches. She slowed him down. Already the others were catching up. In front of him more people stepped forward. He was locked in!

They all told him to calm down, to take it easy, to go with them - they could help. Ford gritted his teeth. He didn't need that. He needed to leave. He needed to get away, to find the lockup and get out.

One of them pulled out the gun - Ford's heart pounded, eyes wide as he stared. No! They could stop him! They couldn't keep him here! He needed to leave!

The captain turned to the boy who'd unclipped his weapon.

"Put that away! Don't you dare shoot him," he turned back to Ford. "Dr. Pines, I understand you feel confused - ,"

Ford eyes flicked to an opening in their barrier and charged it. A hand caught his arm and he lashed out. He twisted for their wrist and pulled taunt. His palm struck their elbow and a scream of pain followed the odd snap of the dislocated joint.

They let him go and Ford stepped away to run, but someone already tacked him to the floor. He shoved his elbow in their nose and a drop of blood dripped onto his ear before they rolled over with a groan. Ford scrambled to his feet.

A pain erupted in the side of his head. Ford fell to his knee and looked up through static vision to see a trainee shaking his fist with a grimace.

Ford struggled to rise, but his arms were already pulled behind his back as they started to drag him away. Ford swallowed, breath coming out in gasps. He shook his head.

They couldn't take him! He needed to leave! He needed to get out!

He attempted to buck them off, but their grip tightened.

"Someone call Medical. You three - bring him downstairs,"

Ford slammed his boot down on his captors foot. There was a crack of bones and a shout of pain. Just as he thought the hands on him might loosen, they were replace by more firm ones that ripped him forward and hurried him down the hall.

No, no, no! He couldn't stop them. He was helpless as they forced him farther and farther away from where he needed to be. All his thrashing did nothing against the fight for his freedom.

They took him to a room and forced him into a chair with restraints. Ford yanked at the straps, unwilling to give in just yet. The captors stepped out of the room and were replaced by a man and a teenage girl dressed in medical uniforms.

The man pointed at the array of needles already lined up on a table.

"I've measured out the dosage. All we have to do is inject them,"

Ford's heart pounded in his chest. He kept tugging at his arms, but they stayed held in place. The girl came over, lining a needle up with his veins. Ford jerked away, but it did nothing to impede the medic. Ford's arms stayed tense as whatever mysterious substance they were giving him got stuck into his body.

She backed away and murmured something to the man. Ford was left to feel the cool burn work it's way up his arms. Already he could feel his chest loosen as a pleasant haze filled his mind. The girl came back to inject something else and the man did the same at his other side. Ford's clenched his teeth as he struggled to keep alert and aware. His wide eyes stopped darting around and instead grew clear and focused. His tense limbs relaxed and his heart began to slow to a normal rhythm.

Then she walked in.

"Stanford. You look awful my friend,"

 _Vestra_ ,

He stared at the senator while she looked at him with concern in her gaze. She turned to the two medics.

"Finish up, then leave."

They completed their tasks, another pair of injections being given before they tidied up and walked out. It was then that Ford noticed the papers in her hands. She saw him eye them. Stepping forward she placed them on a rolling table and pulled it over.

"I found these in your room. I don't mean to be rude, but it's quite a mess. I'm having it fix up as we speak,"

Ford glanced at the papers. They were filled with the equations he'd been working on for the past few weeks. Something like fear bubbled in his chest, but it wouldn't quite materialize. He was forgetting something. Something important that he couldn't quite grasp at.

Vestra pulled over a chair and sat next to him.

"You tried to leave?"

He wanted to glance around the room. To detect the danger that his gut was screaming at him was there. Instead he held her gaze, mind growing more and more confused by the minute.

"I understand things have been hard for you ... since the experiment failed. But you can't afford to make silly decisions like that. Just look what's happened Stanford,"

He frowned.

"You - y-you - ," he tried to think of what to say. What could he possibly need to voice aloud? "You ... w-were n-never helping me, w-were y-y-you?"

She leveled his gaze.

"The work you're doing has a higher chance of finding your brother than any other path you may intend to take. I'm trying to help you Stanford. All of this - ," she gestured around the room. "It's for your own good. You'll be thanking me later. When you feel better,"

He looked away, his jaw set.

She wasn't helping him, she was helping _herself_. He wished Stanley was there. He needed his brother.

He'd never see Stanley ...

His eyes started to droop. The haze in his mind grew thicker and his body began to feel heavy.

"Don't worry. Tomorrow this will all feel like nothing more than a bad dream. Then you can get back to work,"

He glanced at her through a growing tint in his vision. She still had that concerned sympathetic expression.

"Be optimistic my friend. You'll find your brother eventually,"

His eyes closed and his thoughts trailed off. He tried to fight it, he tried to stay awake, but in the end Ford fell asleep.

***

_ Now _

Shutting the door, hearing its click, turning to face his empty room. It almost felt like Stan wasn't even there. He glanced around his walls at the many words, numbers, symbols, equations written on them. Ford told himself to breath. To take in deep breaths, one after another. He was alright. Stanley was alright. Everything would be alright.

He pulled himself away from the door and went to the bed.

Sleep. He needed sleep.

He pulled off his shoes and sat down. Reaching over, Ford plucked a few papers off his nightstand. They were wrong. Something wasn't fitting. His work kept turning out faulty.

But he had succeeded just enough. Just enough to bring Stanley back. Just enough to make that portal bring his brother through. Stanley was here. He was here, and he would be safe, and they could simply put the last six months behind them. Together, now that Stanley was back, now that it had worked, maybe they could _leave_ -

Ford jerked, dropping his papers and ducking his head between his knees. It was back. That small pain at the base of his skull. His head turned fuzzy - he couldn't _think_. It was so strong this time. What triggered it? What triggered that soft buzz? The vibration that made his mind so muddled in partnership with the pressure?

He waited it out. There was nothing else for it. He cleared his mind and focused on nothing as he waited for it to subside. When it finally did he was relieved to find himself fast asleep. 

***

In the dark of unconsciousness, a dim beacon began to fill the void. Like a spotlight, it shined on him with an ethereal glow. A soft, sort of sheen, that blazed yellow.

"Hiya Stanford."

The floodgates burst open, and Ford fell back to see Cipher in all his corrupt grandeur. 

"Now we can finally talk! _No_ interruptions. Like old times, right?"

Ford was speechless. The words left him, but he was surprised to find that this time it was out of sheer fury. He pulled himself to his feet, limbs flowing with steady flow of contempt. It was because of Cipher that he and Stanley had been separated. Because of Cipher that Ford had been alone. That Stanley had been alone. That they had even fallen into the portal in the first place, when Stanley could have been back on earth where he _belonged_. 

"Come on Six Fingers. Nothing to say?" Bill waved his arms. "You wouldn't _believe_ what I had to put up with to get here. The least you could do is bow down and _worship me_. Or was it say hi? Ha! I always get those two mixed up."

Ford looked around himself. There was nothing but a black void. Nothing he could use. Nothing to defend himself or attack. He was helpless. As usual he was at Bill's mercy. And that only fueled his anger more. Bill floated over to him.

"What? You're not - _mad_ are you?"

Ford swung out with his fist. Bill  pulled back and Ford fell headlong into an abyss. Images of unspeakable horrors passed him by. A scream worked it's way through his chest and stuck in his throat. He crashed into an invisible floor, his face smashing into the ground at a painful angle. 

"Well that was boring." Bill circled around him. "Where was all the yelling? Time was, you knew how to scream. It was hilarious!"

Ford's hands tightened into fists. The tall tales and taunting jeers were _already_ getting on his nerves. 

"You know," Bill stopped and put a hand under his eye thoughtfully. "Is this some new silent thing you've got going on? Are you ignoring me? 'Cause at least _Stanley_ gave me a few good shouts every now and then." 

At the mention of his brother Ford grew rigid. Breathing out, he picked himself up on trembling limbs even as Cipher spread his arms wide and bloated in size. 

"News flash Brainiac. You can't ignore me - I'm unforgettable!"

Ford gritted his teeth and glared. He didn't know what he was going to do, but the anger was overwhelming. Cipher dropped his hands by his side. 

"What are _you_ so mad about? All I ever did to _you_ was trick you, torture you, and mess with your brother. That's _nothing_ compared to what I _could_ have done. How's Bleeding Heart by the way? Is she still upset for sending her planet into a nuclear winter?"

Ford was shaking from head to toe, his entire body engulfed in rage. 

 _Would you for once, just -_ **SHUT UP**

His thought reverberated around the void, it's echo almost visible in the darkness. Cipher floated in place and there was a long silence. Ford blinked, surprised by the receptiveness of the mindscape. 

A moment later his ears rang with laughter. 

"HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA! Adorable Fordsy! Look at _you_. Acting upset. Admit it. You missed me!"

Ford put his head to his hand, unable to think of a way to express his fury. Cipher flicked his hand and the black emptiness changed. Ford stumbled forward and found himself in a large field. He tripped into the dying grass, the dark cloudy sky going blurry as he tried to regain his bearings. 

"Alright, let's see what you've been up to lately, eh Six Fingers?"

Ford clambered to his feet and rushed to stop Bill, but he was held back as metal chains tangled themselves in his limbs and trapped him to a swing-set. He yanked at his restraints, even as Bill went through a flash course on his entire life. Ford trembled. 

Since falling into the portal, his thoughts had been his own. He'd been free of Bill's influence this whole time. And now his muse was taking back control. Reclaiming the areas of Ford he'd been able to forge for himself. He watched as every part of his mind was laid bare. The single eye took it all in, a spark of glee shinning there. Ford whole world felt like it was spinning. Out of control and right back to the way things were before. No part of him would be left untouched. He closed his eyes, willing everything to go away and knowing perfectly well it wouldn't. 

He heard a familiar scream and jerked his eye open. Bill cackled as he inspected The memory. _The_ memory. The one Ford shoved to the farthest reaches of his mind. Never to forget, merely to keep safe. He would never let that memory leave him.

"This one - ," Bill glanced over his shoulder, pointing at the visage as it played through. " - this one was always my favorite." He stared back at it. "And you know - I think it's even better in your perspective. With full picture and everything!"

Ford tried to cover his face, his ears, anything. But even if Bill had put it away, it wouldn't have stopped the ever going loop that played through his skull. The sound of his brother's screams that Ford could never make himself forget. 

***

What felt like hours later everything stopped. He was left in the void again. Whatever had triggered the end felt like a welcome relief. 

Until the images flashed through his mind. 

Ford held his head in his arms, but they wouldn't go away. Blueprints. Equations. Instructions, math, theoretical sciences undiscovered in any dimension he'd been to yet. All of it flowing into his mind and fitting its way into the puzzle Ford had been trying to solve for months. 

"Here you go Fordsy. Heard you could use a little help." Bill voice echoed through it all. 

This. It was what Bill wanted. It was _exactly_ what Bill wanted. He had to shut it down - he had to stop it! He couldn't fit those pieces together - he couldn't do what Bill wanted!

But ... Vestra ... she had said ... 

He didn't know. He couldn't understand. He knew what he didn't want, and that was to help Bill. But he knew what he did want, and that was to help his friend. To not let Vestra down, to work on the machine and finally help her create a better world - 

Right? 

He didn't know. He couldn't think. He couldn't get his head set straight. Everything was a mess. There was too much. Too many ideas, and thoughts, and memories. Too many possibilities, and chances to go wrong. Too many - too much - all of it overwhelming him!

"And if you need a little ... persuasion. A bit of convincing have you. Then just think of what I could do to stupid ol' Stanley ... ," 

A long, loud, echoing laugh reverberated all around and inside Ford's skull till it burned. 

***

Out of the blackness, in what seemed to be only seconds later, light rushed in to greet him. Ford blinked open his eyes to see Stanley's face staring down at him. He looked at his brother, at the room around him, and his bed. He found himself crouched across the room, not under the cover of his sheets. It hit him at once. He could feel it in his very bones. His gaze jerked to inspect Stan, looking for injuries, looking for a sign of something wrong. Through a fog he heard his name being called out, and a hand gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. 

Ford jerked away. He scrambled to his feet, the ground underneath him tilting. Strong arms came to steady him, but he moved forward. His gut churned in protest. He blinked, eyes focused on the door in front of him as he fled for relief. 

He could barely make it fast enough, when he crumpled in front of the toilet, slamming the lid up, and heaved. Every inch of his body bristled at the sensation, but he felt as if he was expelling Cipher's repugnant touch. 

His mind had been ransacked. Every thought was out of place, he could barely keep things linear. His chest convulsed and he hurled more of his stomach into the bowl. He felt vile. Inside and out, he couldn't breath without smelling the non-existent stench of the demon's presence. Every inch of his body. Every atom in his molecules. Cipher's. Again. 

He gagged, acid crawling past his esophagus and blazing into his throat. His hands gripped the edge of the metal, knuckles turning white. 

It was supposed to be okay. He had brought Stanley back. For that moment everything had been fine. And now it was a mess again. He was right back where he started, progress ripped to shreds. Cipher wasn't supposed to be there. The Base was supposed to be protected from him. How was this possible? How could everything fly into disarray in a matter of seconds? 

He coughed, some of the acid catching in his lungs. He couldn't breath. His chest simmered with a soft burning sensation. He was so tired. He felt so weak. Helpless and out of control. He didn't know what he was going to do. He didn't know how to fix this, or where to even start. He trembled against the tiles, shivering next to all the cold steel and white floor. 

A hand placed itself on his back and Ford stiffened and closed his eyes. It made small, soothing rubs and Ford hunched over the toilet while his gut decided how much more to give. 

He was so lost. His head spun and hysteria was starting to rise in him, but he focused on the touch. He focused on the hand, and the arm it was attached to, and on the brother attached to that. He focused on Stanley even while thoughts swirled in his head. And despite everything, he had enough state of mind to appreciate his brother's anchoring presence that he had gone too long without. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Linear chronological flashbacks? What are those? That certainly sounds nothing like my FLASHBACKS THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN AT THE BEGINNING, BUT I DON'T HAVE AN OUTLINE, SO TAKE THESE OUT OF ORDER 'HAPPENED BEFORE EVERYTHING ELSE' FLASHBACKS flashbacks. And at anyrate, they match up better with the chapter, so ...

_Now_

Bill Cipher was trapped. Locked in a room of finite boundries. Possessing Stanley Pines was ... a risky move. But what other choice did he have? How else could he interact with the physical world? 

His eye slid to the wall. Beyond would be the body of Stanford Pines. A wide grin grew. 

And then fell. He had made a deal. With Stanley ... 

"Pfft," 

Cipher hardly gave it a second thought before preparing to leave Stan's body. Stanley Pines had broken all the rules. At this point, if he wanted Cipher to follow any, he'd have to enforce them himself. 

He left the top-heavy fool to rest, and entered the wider scope of the mindscape. 

He was immediantly forced back - a blinding light broke his view, expelling him. Bill shrieked and shut his eyes as he spun 'round, and around, and around. He flew in circles till the pressure lessoned and he could feel himself no longer being pushed away. He blinked and looked up. 

Cipher hovered a few feet above the ground, an empty expanse of dark snow spreading as far as he could see. He grumbled to himself and tried to float back down. He got maybe six feet, when  sigils flaired and he was thrown back again.

The triangle grumbled to himself and tried to think of another way inside. He concentrated, focusing his gaze inward, searching the base for a weak point in it's defenses. Some point of entry. A door, or even a window that he could break through. 

There was nothing. Not a spec of space from floor to ceiling left unguarded. He clenched his fists and swung his attention elsewhere. There had to be something. Somewhere there had to be. 

He found it in the most unlikely of places. A window in the dark recesses of a drawer. He drew himself there, then stretched beyond it with some effort and looked out into a room. Turning he spotted her. Back facing him was Bleeding Heart. Sleeping?

He floated in front of her face - No. Unfortunately she was wide awake. Sitting at a desk. Looking at a stack of papers. Cipher interlaced his fingers and leaned over to take a peek. 

Complex data and equations. Graphs, tables, estimates. And then on the side were simplified explanations that really couldn't do the facts justice. 

Cipher snickered. 

Bleeding Heart tensed as a shiver ran down her back, and her hands clenched around the papers she was skimming. She glanced up, eyes narrowed. 

He wanted to speak with her. It'd been too long. Threats. Dangerous threats were what she needed. For breaking a deal with _Bill Cipher_. But he couldn't interact with her. Not like this. Not while she was wide awake. Unless ... 

His thoughts went back to Six Fingers. Perhaps _his_ door wouldn't be quite so  _locked_. Cipher focused on an old window. In the shape of a scar. 

And he was in. Cipher cracked his knuckles and cackled. This would be fun

***

Bill Cipher relinquished control. It took an enourmous amount of effort to keep from being expelled again. But he was able to keep his place inside the room. He floated and watched as Six Fingers stumbled away. Bill snickered. 

Stanley was left to take a moment, expression dark and overridden with guilt. He straightened, and for a moment he stood in such a way that Cipher almost suspected he could see him. Bill cringed and took a few involuntary inches back. But then Stanley moved, and Bill was left to silently fume.

He'd give that oaf what was coming to him soon enough. 

He watched Stanley, kneeling next to Six Fingers, give him comfort as several emotions crossed his face. After a while he opened his mouth to speak. 

"Ford ... we need to talk." 

***

_There - Stanford_

It was the portal. There it was. Another one sitting right in front of him. The large upside triangle obvious from where it sat in the middle of the small town. And it _worked_. He could see the blue glow of energy swirling in the circle's center from where he stood.

_They have a portal._

He could use it! He could get Stanley back! Get it set for the nightmare dimension and -

And everything would collapse. Bill in this dimension. Finally reaching his goal. His idea of a party wrecking havoc everywhere.

_But Stanley - !_

He was torn. So deeply torn.

Then the eyes came.

They didn't want him to use it. It was obvious from their angry gaze. The pure animosity rolling off their image in waves. Nothing like the gleeful amusement they found when Ford gave in to their directions. They didn't want Bill anywhere near Ford. He could go as far to say they _hated_ the triangle demon.

Bill would want the portal open. The eyes did not. He didn't want to do what either of them wanted. He wanted to defy them both.

But then the portal started oozing dangerous creatures that Ford knew where coming to attack him. They were coming for _him_. He could see them and their disfigured appearance. Flying through the air and crawling across the ground.

There was a crowd forming around the portal. Why weren't they freaking out? Didn't they see? Couldn't they see what was _happening_? Or were they apart of it? They built the portal! They wanted this to happen! They were working with Bill!

He needed to destroy it. Destroy the portal. Get rid of it. Disassemble it. There wasn't enough time. More creatures were pouring in. He needed something efficient. Something fast.

He'd have to blow it up. A bomb big enough to engulf the metal and all the surrounding creatures.

That was sure to do it. And the eyes were grinning again. In the way that they could. It didn't matter. He didn't pay much attention to their cruel glints. He had to work fast. He had to get rid of the portal and blow it up before Cipher could ever have a chance to enter the dimension.

***

"So what do you think?" The police officer dipped his glazed donut in his beverage and took a bite. "Terrobis?"

"What?" His partner paused and looked up from her file.

The other one swallowed.

" 'Terrorist'. Do you think it he's with the Arachnids?"

"He's human."

"Yeah, but he could be from one of them - extremist groups."

The deputy walked in.

"I'm not quite sure about that."

The two officers straightened and looked over at the deputy.

"Ah, sir."

"Afternoon sir."

"What - what uh, makes you think he's not working with the Arachnids."

The deputy stepped past them and peered through the bars, into the shadowed cell. The figure inside retreated further back. The deputy shook his head and turned back to the other two.

"Did either of you try and talk to him yet? Ask him why he _blew up_  the Trinity Monument?"

The officer still holding a donut shrugged.

"Wouldn't say nothin' ." he peered past the deputy. "I heard they had a real hard time getting him in here. Had to sedate him and everything."

"You know," the woman tapped her finger to her chin. "I bet he _is_ working with the Arachnids. Darn spiders."

"Hey." The deputy gave her a glare. "Watch your mouth. There'll be no slurs in _my_ precinct."

She held up her hands.

"Sorry. It slipped out."

The other officer finished off his donut.

"You know. I think maybe you're right. Guy looks downright unhinged." he stepped over to the cells and watched as the figure retreated further. "And despite what everyone thinks. I know those extremist groups. Did a report on them a while back. They've got surprisingly high standards. Makes our background checks look pathetic to be honest."

The deputy held out his hand.

"Someone get me the report."

They handed it to him and he looked it over. He waved them off.

"Alright, dismissed. I'll handle things from here."

The woman raised a brow.

"Sir, are you sure ... ?"

"Go. Before I change my mind."

The two officers exchanged a look, then shrugged and headed out. The deputy watched them go. 

He let out a sigh and looked around. Walking over, he picked up a cup and filled it from the machine. Then he turned to the cell. Reaching for his keys, he unlocked the bars and stepped inside. He watched the guy cuffed to the table jerk at his restraints and pull away. The deputy pulled out a chair and sat. 

"You must be thirsty." He set the cup down and slid it over.

The man eyed it, but made no move to take the drink. The deputy scratched his chin and waited. A moment passed. He leaned forward.

"All I wanna know is if an Arachnid was invovled." He searched for a some sign that he was even heard. 

The man didn't respond. The deputy frowned and crossed his arms.

"It's in your best interests to talk to me. I can help you. Work something out before you're sent off to a high security penitentiary." He tried to catch the man's eye. 

But the guy sitting opposite him was staring off at something else, his eyes seemingly unfocused as he gazed at what looked like nothing. He stayed tensed, but otherwise didn't react to any of the deputy's words. It felt as if he couldn't care less. The deputy scowled.

"Do you think this is some kind of game?' He slammed the folder down on the table. 

The man jumped and flickered his eyes over, then away again. The deputy huffed.

"Look at those." He flipped it open. "You see this?" He pointed to pictures from the aftermath of the scene. 

The man spared it another glance. The deputy nodded.

"Yeah. People got _hurt_. You're lucky no one died. This? This was chaos. My - ," He clenched his fist and took a deep breath. "My _family_ was out there yesterday. I don't know what rock you crawled out of, but can you imagine? Your parents. Wife and kids. Sister? Brother?"

The man's hands closed into fists and he lowered his head. The Deputy watched him, but he got no other reaction. He looked back at the images and memories sprange to mind. 

"Look, I'm just trying to stop a war here. The last time things got that tense - you might've been young. But try and remember how bad it got. 

We've moved past that. Society is ... progressing. A lot of people are more accepting of each other, and it's up to men like me to make sure guys like you don't ruin it ... ,"

The man peered out and his eyes latched to somewhere on the folder. The deputy tried to follow his gaze. When he couldn't, he settled for rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh. He shook his head.

"I'm going to leave this here with you." He stood and pushed the folder closer. "Just ... think about it." 

The man said nothing, his eyes still fixed on the folder. The deputy pursed his lips with a frown, but walked out. 

After he left, a hand reached over and pulled a paperclip from the file. He whispered something under his breath.

" ...  _Stanley_... ," he squeezed his eyes shut as he held the clip between his fingers. 

Ford stood and jimmed open the cuffs. His eyes jerked everywhere as he stared at the eyes. He glanced down at the pictures. When the cuffs were undone, he raced to slip out. 

***

_ Now _

"We need to talk."

Ford shoulder's tensed. He tilted his head away.

Stanley didn't deserve this. He never asked for this. For any of this.

Everything was a mess. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to fix this? What was he supposed to tell Vestra? How could he keep Stan safe? How could he keep Cipher away?

A though struck him.

Stan needed to go. He needed to walk away. Leave Ford to deal with his own mess.

"L-l-leave."

Stan froze.

" ... _what_?" Stan's mouth hung open and he stared at Ford wide eyed.

Ford glanced at him before diverting his gaze elsewhere.

"Y-y-you n-n-need to l-leave."

"But I just - _I just got here_."

Ford flinched.

"I k-know ... ," he bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut. But he couldn't think of any other way to keep his brother safe. 

Stan grabbed his arm and whirled him around.

" _I'm not leaving_." 

***

"Th-that's ... ," Ford rested his head on his knees and stared at nothing as he tried to wrap his mind around it all. 

"Yeah." 

Ford glanced up at his brother. 

"And he - he sh-showed you ... h-h-how much ... ?"

"All of it." Stan pressed his lips together and looked away. "Too much," he whispered. "Stuff I don't think I ever ... wanted to know. Wanted to see. To _hear_." He swallowed. 

" _Stanley_ \- ," Ford reached out and wrapped his arms around his brother. 

Stan stayed stiff against him, not taking in the comfort Ford was trying to give.

"And you know the worst part?" 

Ford leaned back to see the clouded look on Stan's face. He pulled away.

"W-wh-what?"

Stanley lifted his head and glared at him. 

"The worst part is that you never told me." He grabbed Ford's wrist. "Anything. Ever. All this stuff that happened, and I have to figure out from _Bill Cipher_ before my _brother_ every says a word." 

Ford squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head. Stanley went on. 

"The worst part was being completely unprepared. Not knowing what that maniplative triangle is capable of until I figured it out for myself - when if you had just _told_ me." Stan took in a few deep breaths and dropped Ford's arm. He turned away. "The ... the worst part is knowing that if I hadn't ... hadn't _ruined_ your chances at a better future by being so _stupid_. If i had just _been there_. Hadn't got myself caught up in messes my whole life and just - ,"

"S-s- _stop it._ " 

"Well it's true." 

"No." 

"It's my fault. A whole lot could've just not happened if I hadn't been such an idiot."

"N-n-no I - ," Ford's shoulders drooped. "I thought we said we weren't going to do this anymore ... ," 

"Yeah. Guess that's just one more thing I failed at." 

"Stanley ... ," 

"Maybe I should leave. Maybe that would be better - ,"

" _N-n-no._ " Ford shook his head. He glared up at Stan. "W-whatever you think - W-whatever I've s-s-said. I w-w-worked _hard_ to bring you _back_ b-b-because _... ,_ " Ford's eyes drifted as he searched for the right words. "B-b-because ... ," He squeezed his fists and shut his eyes, hoping to get his meaning through his brother's thick skull. "Because your w-w- _worth_ it, a-a-and I _need_ you."

Stan's shoulders slumped. He picked at the fabric of his clothes and let his eye drop to the floor. 

" ... yeah ... ?" 

***

"So that portal ... was you?" 

Ford nodded. Stanley rubbed his chin. 

"I never really thought about where it came from. It just showed up and Bill hid it in some corner till we made a deal." 

"And th-that's the only d-d-deal you m-made?" 

Stan shrugged. 

"Well yeah." His face turned dark. "Trust me. We didn't become buddy buddy or anything. That's for sure - ,"

"N-n-no I meant ... ," Ford frowned. He reached over and pulled his brother into an embrace. "I-I-I just meant - I'm glad you don't owe him anything else - right?"

Stanley returned the hug.

"Mm, nah ... ,"

"G-g-good. He can't possess you. He doesn't have a-any h-h-hold on you," Ford shook his head. "I just w-want you as far a-a-away from him as w-w-we can g-get you." 

"Oh," Stan swallowed and stared at the wall. "Right ... ,"

***

"That's not - ," 

Ford cut him off.

"She's h-h-helping - ," 

"But doesn't that sound off to you at all?"

"No. She's - ," A small ache started behind Ford's eyes. "I j-j-just th-th-thought - ," He put his head in his hands and messaged his temples. "I d-d-don't k-know." 

"Don't worry." Stan pulled him close and held him in a strong grip. "I'll take care of it. After all, that's why I'm here." 

***

"Axolotl ... ?" Ford chewed on the word. He knew of it. But in a general sense. He recalled something of an amphibian, but any further meaning was lost on him. 

"Yeah. It was really dumb and vague. But that thing you're working on - ," 

"Tesseract." 

"Yeah. I think that's what it was talking about."

"You do realize ... this. All of this. It plays right into Cipher's hands."

Stanley frowned. He took a deep breath in and exhaled. 

"I know ... ," He looked at Ford. "But you knew that too. When you said you tried to get me back? You did it anyways. I'm here because of you. I ... I want to do that for you. We'll be cutting it close. But if we can do this - Ford ... ," He put his hands on his brother's shoulders. "We can get rid of The Eyes. For good." 

Ford jaw went slack and he stared at Stan in disbelief. 

***

_ There - Stanley _

He ran across the shelf of bedrock, skidding to a halt as he reached the edge. Behind him the noise shouldering past stone grew louder. Stanley swallowed, then lept forward, eyes squeezed closed and hoping for something to land on. The ground came up and slammed into his legs - hard. His knees buckled and he toppled over, face crashing into the dirt.

A laugh echoed behind him. Stan gritted his teeth and forced his arms under himself as he struggled back up. He got to stand and stumbled forward, breaking into another run. Something exploded to his right. Stan flinched, putting a hand to his head, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

Bill Cipher was right behind him.

He ran out of space to sprint across, his next step sending him plummeting. Stanley shouted and smacked down, the air knocking out of him. His side flared, the promise of dark bruises making him ache. He rolled over with a moan and put a hand to his head. Gravel erupted next to him, blasting fragments everywhere. Stan ducked, small pebbles battering him in a storm of marble hail.

Another laugh.

A force clamped around his ankle and yanked. Stan yelped, twisting his body and trying to kick it off. But there was nothing there. Nothing but the pressure on his leg. It pulled, dragging him up. He hung by his foot  - who knew how high. Who knew how high he was - how high anything was. If height even existed anymore - in the dimension where he couldn't even get a handle on what was up and what was down.

"Look at you, trying to get away. This is fun!"

Stan swallowed and turned to Cipher's voice. He focused on keeping his tone steady. At this point he was sure - Cipher was all talk. If he just stood up to the tirant, he'd be fine.

"Enough games! Let me go!"

"Don't think so Fishbrains."

"What do you want? You can't touch me, so just let me go!"

"Ah, to the contrary. I - ,"

"Boss?" Another creature's voice cut through Cipher's.

Cipher huffed, and Stanley could image his single eye roll.

" _What_?"

The Henchmaniac gulped, but went on in a gruff voice.

"That - that last place we got. The guy. He's here. Found 'em."

Cipher was silent a moment. The grip on Stan's ankle released and he fell to the ground. Bill started to laugh.

"Hehe. Haha! HAHAHA! Well what are waiting for? Bring him over!"

"Uh, sure thing,"

Cipher cackled and Stan felt the pressure on his ankle return. He was hoisted into the air. 

"New idea Fishbrains. You're gonna wanna be able to see this." 

Stan heard a snap, and then a pressure exploded behind his eyes. Stan screamed and Bill laughed. 

"Oh wow. Didn't think that'd actually work."

Stanley clawed at his sockets as a cold ice seared through him. He couldn't think. He couldn't _breathe_. It _hurt_. 

And then it was over. He pulled his arms down and dragged in heavy breaths. Cipher swung him around, and he could feel the heavy gaze of a single eye boring into him. His last theory flew out the window. Cipher had power. Stan had to be careful. 

"Take a look Fishbrains. Tell me what you think." 

Stanley kept his eyes squeezed shut, unsure of what horrorfic state he'd find his sight in. He had to keep them close. He couldn't look. He. Couldn't. _See_.

The pressure enveloped his whole body and Cipher shook him like a child annoyed with its toy. 

"Well? Come on, I won't wait all eternity. Open your eyes Fishbrains." 

Stanley held his head, his mind spinning. When it cleared, he resolved to at least take a peek. Maybe compliance was the angle he needed. Try to stay on the triangle's good side. 

He opened an eye. 

His mouth fell open in shock. The blurry mess of swirling colors was replaced with an impossible stream of liquid metal and slabs of rock floating like islands in space. It was almost like he'd imagined, but more choatic and more - vivid. His eyes. His hands flew to his face and he touched his eyes. 

Cipher laughed and dropped him again as he turned. Stan pushed himself up and stared at the rock beneath him. Detail he hadn't experianced in ages assualted his vision. It was almost to much to take in. All the heightened noises, smells, and sensations he was barely keeping straight. Mixed in with the added capasity of his new sight. It was overwhelming. 

A creature - he assumed the same one he'd heard before - floated over, dragging something else behind him. Or - someone else. It was a purple alien in a crisp buisness suit with a terrible comb over and a terrified expression on its face.  Bill laughed. 

"Well look who it is." 

"P-p-please don't hurt me! I'll do whatever you want!"

"Oh really?" 

Stan stared as Cipher grabbed him in a magical grip, an aura of color surrounding the purple creature as it was held afloat.

"I seem to recall a chance too little, too _late_." 

"N-n-no! Please!"

The alien was pitched towards Stanley and he ended up stumbling back, falling on his rear. Bill cackled. 

"Take a good look Fishbrains. The moment I find a way past that sigil, this'll be you - ," he snapped his fingers. 

A scream split the void as the alien errupted into flames. Stan trembled, wide eyed as the creature slowly burnt to death, its shouts piercing his ears.

His mind raced to readjust his theories. Cipher didn't _have_ a good side. Maybe if he went back to being bold. Show no fear? 

He didn't know. He couldn't get a read on the triangle. The yellow demon was unlike any other mob boss or drug lord he had ever come across. Any space pirates, or monsters from other dimensions that lorded over their power and strength. Stanley had no idea how to go about this ... 

... He sat and watched as the purple creature burned, a feeling of unease settling in his chest.

***

_ Now _

"Stanley ... about ... Cipher ... ," Ford played with his extra fingers. "You don't - you're not ... afraid - er - worried? About him?"

Stan didn't respond. The silence stretched, and then -

"That's a stupid question."

Ford was about to open his mouth and ask why, when Stan hauled himself onto his feet.

"Come on. Let's get some grub. I'm starving."

***

"What would you like sir?"

"I want a banana."

The woman serving at the counter pursed her lips.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think we have that here - ,"

"Then I'd like a lemon." Stan leaned against the bar, expression lazy.

The woman let out a sigh.

"We have ... limes?"

"How 'bout corn."

"We don't - ,"

"Mustard."

"Sir - ,"

"Cheese."

She stared at him for a long moment. Eyes narrowed, she reached down and dug in the various breakfast items.

" _Here._ " she dropped a portionable amount of cheese on the counter.

It was white and littered with holes. Stan glanced at it.

" _Swiss_. Figures." he rolled his eye, then picked it up and walked away.

Ford stepped up and gave an apologetic smile. The woman took a deep breath in, then smiled back.

"What can I get for you Dr. Pines?"


	8. Chapter 8

_Now_

Ford scanned his card on the door's keypad and they entered the lab. Stanley took everything in. He whistled.

"Fancy."

The place was set up with a lot of tools and machines that look futurey and 'sciencey' if he had to guess. Ford rubbed the knuckles on a hand, but nodded. He gestured to a door across the room and they walked over.

"Th-th-this i-i-is - ," Ford put a hand on the cold metal entrance.

Stanley glanced at the keypad, locked with an extra code and eye-scanner. He peered at it with a new interest.

"It's in there?"

Ford pursed his lips and gave a mute nod. They stepped away and Ford showed Stanley the other things. He started murmuring in a low voice about all the various items and what they did. Stanley half-listened, interjecting a 'Mm-hm' every so often. He let Ford relax as he went on talking, and Stan rested an elbow on an island counter, leaning down as his gaze dropped becaming lidded. He slid lower -

Something crashed to the floor, causing both twins to jump.

They peered down. A beaker laid cracked, a sticky liquid spilled onto the white tiles. Ford frowned at Stanley, frustrated with his careless actions and Stan shrugged. Moving aside, Stanley watched, passive as his brother stepped over to clean the mess. Ford gestured to a pile of wipes on a table across the room and Stanley retrieved a few, handing them over. Ford stooped, then paused and looked up.

"A little help?"

Stan blinked, then put his hand to his chin, tapping it in mock thought. A grin split his face and he shook his head.

"Nah, I think I'm good." He leaned back against the counter, furthering his efforts to be difficult and not assist.

Ford rolled his eyes. Dipping down again, he started mopping while Stanley just _watched_.

Another door, leading from a back room, opened and Stan glanced over. A woman came in, casting him the briefest of glances before staring at a set of papers she was holding.

"I finished organizing new data last night." She flipped between notes and came closer. "I want you to take a look at it and tell me if it coincides with your understanding of what happened. Since you were there." She shrugged and handed Stanley a set of sheets, her own focus firmly planted on a chart she was looking at. "It's a little off from my projections. I'll need that back in an about an hour."

Stan shuffled through a series of tables filled with, what seemed to him, meaningless numbers. He eyed the woman and his confusion grew. She felt his gaze, blinked, and straightened, dropping her arms to her sides and giving him an exasperated look.

"Did you get all that?"

Stanley took in a breath and started to nodded his head. He slowed, then stopped and shook it with a shrug.

"Yeah ... I ain't got a clue what all - ," he waved the papers. " _this_ is."

The woman blinked and tilted her head, eyes widening in an expression of curious surprise. Ford straightened, dropping the dirty wipes in a pile on the table, and the woman froze.

" _What in_ \- ?" She slid her eyes from one twin to the other. "Dr. Pines - ... ?" Her eyes widened in understanding. She shook her head and eased her composure. "For crying out - you never told me you were _twins_."

In the same gesture, both men raised their brow, giving her an equally confused look. The woman pursed her lips in thought, then caught sight of the charts. She plucked them from Stanley's hands.

"These are ... - for you." She handed them off to Ford, then turned to walk away. "I have to ... ," She paused a moment, casting an inspective glance over her shoulder, before she left, not bothering to finish her excuse.

Stanley and Stanford shared a puzzled look, and shrugged. Ford picked up the wipes and dropped them into his brother's hand.

" _All yours_." He leaned over and picked up the papers, flipping between them.

Stan scrunched his nose and held the soiled toilets at a distance.

***

Marlia observed the two men pouring over a set of notes. Dr. Pines was writing, an elbow resting on the table, his hand tangled in his hair. He pointed at something and circled it with a pencil. The other one - his brother it seemed - pointed at something else.

"Wait I thought you said this one - ,"

Dr. Pines shook his head. Marlia watched him mumble under his breath. She couldn't hear, but his brother nodded as if he'd caught every word. Marlia crossed her arms and rested against the door frame. The scientist in her watched the two interact, fascinated by their dynamic.

In the few months she had worked with Dr. Pines, she had known the man to be watchful and always uneasy. But here he was, more relaxed than she had seen him yet, and conversing freely. It was a miracle in itself. He had never attempted such an unrestricted level of communication with her. Notwithstanding the months of getting him to open up and respond in quick, stuttered sentences. Even with Vestra he couldn't lose the constant restraint of the wobble in his words.

The brother pulled a sheet towards himself.

"He showed you all this?"

Dr. Pines was still a moment, then nodded, gaze planted at a point on the ground. The brother went to give Dr. Pines arm a reassuring squeeze. Marlia opened her mouth, seconds away from signaling caution, but the two of them shared a nod. Marlia was taken aback.

Dr. Pines straightened. He took another paper and started scribbling. The brother stepped nearer his side and leaned over him at his work. Marlia adjusted her glasses, her mind racing to find a single moment when the man hadn't shrunk away when she'd gotten too close.

"How ... odd," she murmured.

The brother cast the briefest of glances over his shoulder, causing Ford to look her way. Marlia smoothed her cuff and stepped further into the room. Her cursory observations seemed to be cut short.

"Dr. Pines - ," she began.

The brother jabbed Dr. Pines with an elbow.

"How come you never mentioned she was attractive?"

Dr. Pines coughed out a wheeze and Marlia stilled, a soft red blossoming across her cheeks. The brother rolled his eyes.

"What?" He rested against the table with an amused smile. "I'm not _blind_ anymore." He shrugged. "I noticed."

Marlia struggled to stay impassive, all the while marveling at how _pink_ the doctor's ears could turn.

***

_There - Stanley_

Falling through a portal should have brought sharp, heavy relief. And for a moment - yes. Stanley let himself breath as he stepped through to the other side. He made it. He'd gotten himself _out_.

But no sooner had he relaxed, then he ran a hand over his face. What if he was dragged back? Who knew how Cipher's power worked. If he stayed too close to portal's exit, could Bill reach through and snag him?

Stanley should his head and looked around. A dense and oppressive forest obscured the light. He heard a stick cracked behind him and whirled in alarm. But it misplaced fear.

"Stanford?"

He stared wide-eyed as his brother stepped past the cover of trees and revealed himself. Ford looked as shocked as Stan felt.

"Stanley?"

Stanley looked his brother up and down, unwilling to believe what he saw as real. But there Ford was. Standing in front of him, just as Stan remembered. Ford blinked, then shook his head. He cast a worried glance over his shoulder.

"We have to go."

Stan opened his mouth, confused. Ford took hold of his arm and started pulling him away. Stan stared down at the six fingers, shock and distrust still coursing through him. But there he was. His brother. Softly gripping onto his arm. Casting concerned glances behind them, and then to Stan's numb expression.

"Stanley, are you okay?"

Stan broke his gaze away from Ford's hand and looked up into his face. He swallowed and broke into a watery grin.

"Yeah." He nodded his head. "I'm good. Great even. I just ... can't believe I found you."

Ford gave him a small smile back.

"Same here."

Their moment of comfort was broken with a low toned roar. Stanley jerked, whipping his head around, and Ford gave a gentle tug to lead him forward.

" _We have to go_."

Something came crashing in behind them and Stan didn't hesitate to run. They skirted through trees, darting forward, together.

They weren't quick enough. In front of them, a great burly beast of a bear smashed into view. They skidded to a halt, but before they could turn, it swatted at Ford with a paw, slamming him against coarse bark. Stan watched his brother crumple to the ground.

"Wh- FORD!"

The bear turned on him and set it's heavy paw against his chest. Stan slipped down with a heavy 'omf!' the breath knocking out of him. He scrambled to break free, but the animal held him down. It roared in his face, making his ears ring.

The pressure let up and Stanley leaned up to see the bear rearing on its hind legs and turning back towards his brother. Stan forced his arms under himself and stood, a sense of urgency growing inside of him. He swayed on his feet, but watched as heavy claws slashed towards Ford. His brother stirred and looked up in time to shield his face with an arm.

Ford's shout of pain was drowned out by another growl. Stan ground his teeth. Thoughts of images he'd seen overwhelmed him. He'd just found him. He'd just gotten back. Yet after everything Ford was still being hurt. He grabbed a stick off the forest floor and moved to attack. He couldn't let this happen to his brother. After all the times he wasn't there - he had to make up for it.

He hesitated, the animal's sheer size filtering into his mind. He was put off, the realization that he wasn't in the nightmare realm dawning on him. He could get hurt. He could die, and then who'd help Ford?

Stanley shook his head, dispelling his doubts, and struck out.

The bear roared,whirling on him, making Stanley stumble back. It took a threatening step forward, its teeth bared, but Stan held his ground. He wouldn't retreat. After Cipher, this was nothing. He wouldn't let some creature stand in his way. He'd finally got Ford back. He couldn't leave him alone. Not again. Not a third time.

The bear swiped a heavy paw and Stan avoided its range. It lashed out again, but the animal kept its distance, not attempting to get any closer. Stanley's grip tightened around his weapon and he readjusted his hold.

"Come on! Attack! You seemed happy enough to go after _him_!" His face screwed up in anger. He'd gone too long with Cipher's complete control. He wanted a fight. Something to finally beat in as he vented. This bear wasn't just going to get away with hurting Ford.

The creature stood, and reared on its hind legs, its size a domineering shadow. Stan's heart beat fast in his chest, but he lashed out and struck. He heard a crack and looked down to see his stick break, falling in two.

The bear, however, cried out in pain, twisting. Its feet smashed into the ground, causing an impressive quake. Its claws lashed out, and Stan flinched as they ripped into his side, the sharp, deadly points, like razors.

Stanley dropped to his knee, barely registering Ford coming up behind the animal and zapping the bear with some weapon he'd had concealed in his coat. The creature cried out, and stepped back, wary. Ford zapped it again, and the bear lumbered back. The fight seemed to drain out of it and the animal turned to leave. Stan held his side, his mind racing, and his brother watched as the bear disappeared between the trees, his breathing labored, and his hand straddling a bloodied arm. He turned to Stanley and stopped, eyes going wide with concern.

"You're hurt - !" he took a step forward.

" _Don't_." Stanley tone stopped his brother in his tracks, but Stan stared, eyes burning into the ground.

He took a shaky hand away from his side and looked down.

Nothing. There was nothing. No red. Not a drop of blood. Stan curled in on himself and held his head in his arms as he realized it didn't even _hurt_. Not a single scratch. Not a bruise.

" _No_." He pulled at his hair.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Ford came over.

Stan jerked up and stumbled back.

"Stop - _don't_."

Ford looked at him confusion and worry written across his features. He stretched out a hand.

"Hey, it's fine. Just tell me what's wrong. Everything's going to be okay - ,"

Stanley shook his head. It wasn't real. None of it was real. He looked his brother up and down. He didn't understand. He could see Ford. He could _see_ him - _right there_. Right in front of him. But ...

His eyes. He couldn't trust them. He could only trust what he _felt_. What he _didn't_ feel. He didn't feel the pain of the bear's attack. He didn't feel sore, and he didn't feel blood dripping from his side.

Ford had been so careful not to squeeze his wrist too hard as he pulled him away -

"Stanley please - ,"

He didn't even _sound_ right. It wasn't real. None of it was real. How could he have been so _stupid_?

He'd never really left.

"It's _me_." Ford's voice morphed.

Stan dropped his arms and glanced at his brother in confusion. Ford was grinning at him.

"It's your _brother_." His eyes were yellow. "Aren't you glad to see me?" Yellow with black slits and that inhuman _grin_.

Stanley's mouth fell open and he stepped away, horrified.

"Don't be like that," Ford came forward. "It's been so _long_ , hasn't it?" He laughed.

Stan's mouth snapped closed and his nostrils flared. His body shook with rage and his hands clenched into fists.

"Cipher!"

"Stanley!" His voice. "Stanley, I found you!" That mockery of Ford's voice. "Help me fight the bear Stanley!" Cipher snickered with Ford's face. He spoke with Ford's voice. Had convinced Stanley that he had _left_ -

"You _jerk_!" Stan struck out and swung.

Ford's hand caught it and he snorted. Stan breath caught in his throat. He was inches away, staring into a deep sickly yellow pool, and a wide grin stretching his brother's face.

"Didn't you _miss_ me? Well - _HERE I AM_."

Stanley thrust an uppercut.

His fist collided and he heard the sound of shattering glass. Reality cracked. The world broke away to a black void. Cipher's smug laughter filled _everything_.

"HAHAHA! Fishbrains, I can't believe you fell for that!"

Stan stared at emptiness until he squeezed his eyes shut, his heart aching. He curled in on himself, fingers tangled in his hair as he shuddered with anger. Bile rose in his throat because he had really _believed_. If only for those few moments, he had _really thought -_.

He felt sick. Cipher kept laughing, his enjoyment a never ending echo.

Stanley wanted to scream.

***

_Now_

Marlia bent over his work. "This ... this is amazing. Where are you getting this from?"

Ford jerked up, putting distance between them. The female scientist backed away, arms placating, but Ford's mind suddenly spun to somewhere else.

_Where are these ideas coming from? Who are you working with!_

Before that line of thought could run any farther, Stanley was at his side, leaning to rest against the table.

"Does it matter? It works right? Helps and whatnot?"

Marlia relaxed and picked up a few of the papers.

"Yes. Yes these'll work brilliantly. But ... ," She eyed Ford. "Really. Where did you come up with this?"

Ford grew tense, and his skin itched underneath a growing heat. But he looked up at her questioning gaze and opened his mouth to try beginning an explanation. This time ... this time he shouldn't keep secrets.

Stanley forced himself further between the two scientists, knocking into Ford and forcing him behind his back.

"I told him."

Marlia switched to stare at Stanley. She looked confused a moment, and glanced down at the equations.

"You - ? Oh. I hadn't realized you were knowledgeable in this field too, but... that makes sense." She glanced up at him, curious. "This is really genius, where did you come up with it?"

Ford glared at the back of his brother's head while Stan put on a smug grin.

"Oh, I've got a whole process. Really complicated. Top secret. Involves pancakes."

Marlia raised a confused brow, her gaze turning skeptical while Ford gave his brother a sharp nudge from behind. Marlia stepped away and glanced at some of the other papers.

"Actually, if that's the case, I could use your expertise - ,"

"Oh, no no. Nope. Not for me." Stan shook his head, quick to interrupt her. "Yeah, see. I don't do 'work'. That's what the nerd 's for." Stan snorted. "Yeah, see. I'm the brains and he's just the grunt with a pen."

Ford shot Stanley an unamused glance, but his brother was already moving away.

"So, you know. You two get cracking and all that."

Marlia leveled her gaze at her fellow scientist.

"Dr. Pines?"

Ford glanced at Stanley as his brother picked something off his sleeve. He turned back to his partner and gave a reluctant nod. Marlia sighed, shrugging besides her doubts.

"At any rate, I really think we're on the edge of a break-through here. Especially with all this new data from the last temporal anomaly." She picked up a set of tables showing those very numbers. "Isaac is coming in. I thought we could ask him about some of the more shaky science. And anyways he's been meaning to get out of Pentagram for a while now,"

She went on talking and Ford nodded along, but he glanced over at Stanley. His brother brought a hand up and made a cutting gesture at his neck. Later when they got a moment alone he made a circle with his hands.

"Look, right about now my sphere of trust is like - this small - and includes basically _you_. Just ... lets keep this under-wraps. We're in a military base after all. Even if it _is_ the nerd division."

Ford could see what he meant, but that didn't keep the uneasy feeling from settling in his gut and old memories from springing to mind.

***

"Hey, Stanford!"

Stanley turned around to stare down into the bright green eyes of a little girl. A ... _purple_ little girl. Her bright smile paused as she blinked in confusion, before she burst into giggles.

"Oops! Wrong one." She gave the room a quick scan before leaving Stanley behind her, confused and disoriented.

He turned around to watch as the girl stepped behind Ford and bobbed on her toes.

"Hey, Stanford!"

Ford jumped out of his skin, whirling with a wild look in his eyes. He glanced down, only to recoil, hand catching the edge of a table. Stanley moved to intervene. He wasn't sure, but he suddenly had a feeling the little girl was more than just a harmless child. She, on the other hand, giggled some more, as if amused that Ford could find her so alarming.

Behind them, a voice echoed in a scolding tone.

"Rosie. We talked about this. Leave Dr. Pines alone."

***

"So you're a witch,"

Rosie giggled.

"I'm not _magic,_ silly,"

"Meh,"

"So can I?"

"No,"

"Oh, come on Stanley. Please. Please, please, please with a cherry on top?"

"No,"

"Well why not?"

"I don't need a tarot reading by some mystic alien girl child,"

" _Stanford_ let me read him,"

"Yeah? And how'd that go?"

"Well ... I mean, I wasn't _trying_ to scare him. But, you know how he gets,"

"I do?"

"You know ... _paranoid_ ,"

"Because you're a freaky purple alien girl child with creepy eyes printed in the palms of your hands,"

"Pfft, that's just tattoos. And I'm lilac by the way. I always imagine purple to be a little darker,"

"No,"

"Pleaaaaaaaaase?"

"No,"

"You're a bummer. You're whole 'aura thing' you've got going on is really bringing me down,"

"Tough,"

***

Isaac stood next to Ford. He was explaining the conversion of magical energy and mass to Marlia.

"It's a on a different level entirely. So the usual Energy equals mass times the speed of light squared gets changed to the speed of light cubed. But it's the inverse. So it's the speed of light to the - ,"

"Negative third power,"

"Right,"

Ford looked over at Stan. His brother was sitting against the foot of the table again. Isaac's companion, was sitting on the floor nearby. She was hunched over her cards and mumbling to herself. Then she stopped, seeming to have sensed his gaze, and looked up at him with a bright grin.

Ford grimaced and looked away. She giggled and went back to her cards. He wanted to snatch the stack out of her hands, but she'd just give them if he asked. It was frustrating. They weren't telpic, or full of extra ionized electrons, or even _magic_ , but with her? With that deck, nothing was kept from the 'innocent bundle' of childish behaviors. It was disturbing to be honest. Nothing that young, that _happy_ , should know as much as she did.

"Oie," Stanley jutted out his chin in her direction. "That was one time. Knock it off,"

Rosie glanced over her shoulder and stuck out her tongue.

"You can't stop me,"

Ford wasn't sure what line of conversation they were following, but he felt glad Stan hadn't befriended the girl. Or so it seemed. Rosie scooted over to his brother and held out a card. Stanley opened his eye and looked down.

"Nah, it's more like," Stanley's gaze roamed, and then fell back on Rosie. "It's more like this," he made a round gesture with his hands. "Sorta. And big,"

Rosie nodded and crawled back to her cards. Ford felt a discontent hum grow in his throat. Stan looked up then waved him off. Ford's eyes narrowed, but he tuned back into Isaac and Marlia's conversation.

He missed the entrance of two new arrivals. Tyler came over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Ford stiffened.

"How are you Dr. Pines?"

Ford shrugged off the hand and went back to his work. Tyler paused a moment for an answer he knew wasn't coming, then stepped away to talk to Marlia. She greeted him and they began a quiet discussion. A woman walked over and greeted him.

"Hello Dr. Pines. What would you like for lunch?"

Ford shrugged. He put a hand on his chin as he tried to puzzle out what he was working on.

"So the usual then?"

Ford jotted down some ideas, not bothering to respond. He looked at his equations and realized he'd have to rewrite a few parts.

"What about him?"

Out of the corner of his eye Ford saw her point at Stan.

"Isn't that your brother? Is he sleeping? What would he like?"

Ford blinked and straightened. For the first time, he gave the woman his full attention. She smiled.

"Would he like a sandwich?"

Ford gave that some thought, then nodded. She wrote something down on a pad he didn't realized she kept.

"How about some grapes?"

He nodded.

"And to drink. There's hot tea,"

Ford frowned and shook his head.

"Are you sure? Maybe a cup of some steaming coffee. He seems tired,"

Ford's frown deepened and his head shake grew more pronounced. She dropped her arms, and pursed her lips.

"Maybe if we asked him - ?"

He waved her off with an annoyed gesture, then turned back to his work. She let out a sigh and walked over to Isaac and asked him what he would like for lunch.

Rosie stood up and tugged at the woman's clothes.

"I want hot chocolate please!"

The woman looked down and smiled.

"Sure thing sugar,"

"Rosie," Isaac eyed her with a look. "You can't _just_ have hot chocolate,"

"Well then," Rosie's face screwed up in thought. "I want lamb. Do you have lamb? Pentagram doesn't have lamb,"

The woman shook her head.

"I'm sorry, we don't have that too often. That sounds like something Question Mark might have in stock,"

Rosie's face fell.

"Awww. Lamb 's my favorite. No one has it in this dimension. I really miss it from home."

Isaac stepped over and patted her head.

"It's alright. Just pick something else,"

She nodded.

"Tuna salad."

The woman smiled and wrote it all down.

"Sure thing." She tapped her pad and flicked it closed. "I'll be right on it," she turned around to see Stan's eye trained on Rosie. The woman blinked, then opened her notebook back up. "Would you like anything in particular for lunch?"

Stan's eye glanced at her, then closed.

"Meh,"

"Would you like anything to drink? I can get you coffee - ?"

Stan growled.

"No, now stop askin' us,"

The woman frowned, confused. She ducked her head and walked away. 

"Uh ... sure thing?"

***

Stan watched his brother listening with an intent expression. Ford looked consumed by the unsolved problem. He was nodding as the man Isaac and the woman Marlia debated an equation his brother had supplied.

It reminded Stan of when they were back on earth. When Ford would get excited over the stupidest things. When the oddest school project for the most boring class could be twisted into a bizarre claim for the unknown just as easily as Stan could make it into a joke or new idea for a prank. When one night Ford had woken Stan up at _3 am_ with a light in his eyes and the news that he was _finally_ finished. That all those months had paid off and he'd finally finished a full functioning perpetual motion machine.

It reminded Stan of all those images of his brother sitting in front of a professor, his notes, a textbook, homework, research, his journals, the anomalies, the _mysteries of the universe_ to discover and the ability to do so at the tips of his fingers with only the price of deal hanging over his head -

Stanley released a tired sigh and let his chin fall onto his chest. He hadn't been there when Ford had needed him. That guilt still hung over him like an anvil waiting to drop. But there was no way he'd let anything like that happen again. This time he had a chance to do something. To _be_ there for his brother. Not slumming it in some dead end town, several hundred miles away.

He closed his eyes.

When he opened them, it was dark. Black. He stood on nothing, surrounded by a void. An eerie glow radiated behind him. Stanley turned.

Bill Cipher floated there, his sickly yellow the only light for miles.

Cipher didn't hesitate. He summoned a legion of chains his action spurred on by fear. They wrapped around Stanley, crawling across his arms and chest, threatening to consume him. All it took was one good tug and they vanished into smoke. Cipher's eye widened. He went conjure more obstacles, but Stanley beat him to it. What he imagined to be memories, came in the shape of movie film. Cipher spun around and fled, but not before Stan leashed an arm. Cipher pulled himself free.

"What do you think you're doing!" he screeched.

"We had an understanding. You went back on your deal."

"Deals with you _don't count_."

Stanley narrowed his eyes.

"Sure they do."

The streams of film rose higher, chasing after Cipher as the yellow triangle struggled to fly away. Stan slid on a crooked grin.

"And this is proof of what happens when you don't make good on your end of 'em."

"W-w-wait! Don't!"

Lengths of reel caught Cipher's wrists like rope. He yanked on them, but couldn't fight back against the images glowing yellow in his restraints.

"I won't do it again! I swear! Let me go!"

The memories wound around Cipher, surrounding him in a sphere. Bill's single eye darted from image to image, his anxiety growing. Thoughts from his past bombarded him in a clash of recollections.

"No! Stop!"

Stanley watched the triangle fight to break away, even as he was being consumed. Stan stared on, content and justified as the triangle was surrounded by his own personal horrors. Images and memories that haunted even the triangle's dreams. Days of his past that lurked in the dark places of his mind. It was satisfying to see Bill so distraught and anxious.

"Please!" Bill cried out the word - the request a desperate call to the very air. He knew he wouldn't get help. But he couldn't keep from reaching past cracks that worked to trap him in the enclosure of his own worst experiences. He was terrified. Surrounded by horrors he'd thought were long forgotten.

Stan let out a sigh. With a flick of his wrist the film reels dropped. Cipher appeared out of the tangle.

He fell to his knees, eye wide and unfocused. His body shivered, but he looked unaware of anything but his own thoughts after the reunion with his nightmares.

Stanley took a few sauntering steps forward and towered over the yellow triangle.

"Next time I won't be so nice."

Cipher stiffened at Stan's words. He slowly lifted his gaze to stare at the human with utter malice in his eye.

"You're so worried about Stanford." A half-crazed glint curved his features upwards into a wicked smile. "But what about _you_? Eh?" He laughed, the sound small and deranged. "Aren't you worried about yourself, _Stanley_!"

Stanley rolled his eyes and turned to walk away.

"If it wasn't obvious enough, I think I can take care of myself just fine." He shot one last warning glance towards the triangle. "Just stay away from Ford." He stepped into the void, a light beginning to appear in the distance.

Stan shifted with a deeper breath, opening his eye to find himself laying against the side of a table, the lab surrounding him. He was awake.

Ford was glancing over the edge of his paper at him, a confused expression on his face. He came up to Stanley, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"You doing okay?" He whispered, his eyes searching his brother's.

For a moment, Stanley wasn't sure if it was real. He question if he was locked away in a dream. Trapped by Cipher, waiting till the other shoe dropped. 

But he felt Ford's touch on him arm. He could _feel_ him, and he could feel the reality of everything else. He just _knew_ , and his doubts left like the absurd musings they were. This was real. Ford was real. His brother was with him. They were together. 

Stan grinned back at Ford and punched his shoulder.

"Just catching some Z's, heh."

Ford rubbed the spot with a grimace, but at his brother's expression he smiled back. With a nod, he turned back to his work. Stanley watched him go. His brother. He wasn't there for him. But now he could be.

Stanley shifted again and pushed himself up straighter. For the first time in a while he thought maybe things could be alright. 

***

Ford leaned over the cube, using the smallest screwdriver they had to twist in the last panel. Marlia stood next to him, scrutinizing his accuracy, and Isaac watched with an excited gleam in his eye even as he repeated the phrase,

"Careful. _Care_ ful. Be careful. Slowly. _Careful_."

Ford finished tightening the screw and stepped back. He glanced between his associates and they all had equal blank stares. Isaac was the first to speak.

"So ... that's it?"

Marlia gave a slow nod, her mind still trying to catch up. Out of the three of them, she had been working on the project the longest.

"The um ... there are ... ," She shook her head and looked down at her notes. "It can't be activated till a series of simulations are ran to insure that it won't be faulty, but ... ," She shared a glance with Ford, then stared at the cube. "Yes. It's finally done." Her voice betrayed her disbelief and awe.

"So that's the thing?"

The three scientists turned to see Stanley leaning against the doorway.

"Looks kinda small. You sure all this fuss is over _that_?"

Marlia frowned.

" 'That,' is _the smallest_ trans-dimensional portal to date, and can break through not only the different dimensions, not only into the second dimension and the space _between_ dimensions, but can crack _straight through_ to the _fourth_ dimensional plane."

"Theoretically." Isaac glanced between her and Stanley, making sure to clarify that point.

Marlia gave him a despairing glance, looking for all the world like she wanted to bop Isaac over the head for questioning her work. But then she shifted her gaze down to her notes, her demeanor becoming more doubtful.

"Ah, yes. Theoretically. The simulations still have to be ran ... ," She trailed off.

Ford didn't harbor the same misgivings.

_It'll work._

He knew with a grim certainty just how successful the first test would be. Even Stanley seemed to feel it. The twins shared a look, their gaze sliding to the Tesseract. If Bill Cipher wanted it enough to give Ford the missing pieces in putting it together, then nothing would go wrong. Just like the yellow triangle had planned. Just what the two brothers had to stop.

"Anyone for a trip to the gym?"

Ford jumped, sliding closer to Stanley at the sound of that too-sweet toned voice. Marlia flickered her gaze to Rosie.

"What? Absolutely not. The simulations still need to be ran."

"Actually." Isaac put a hand to his chin. "As lovely as Bleeding Heart's science division is, I've heard the gym to be multi-verse renowned."

"A chance to get out of nerd world?" Stanley crossed his arms and raised a hand. "Sign me up."

"Great!' Rosie gestured for everyone to follow. "Let's go!"

"Wait, right now?" Marlia glanced around the small room. She pursed her lips and tucked her notes under her arm. "Go ahead Isaac. Dr. Pines ... ? I'll handle to simulations, but what do you - ?"

He was going of course. He wouldn't leave Stanley to himself alone with not only Rosie, not only an entire room of well trained fighters, not only in a military base of potential hostile threats, not only -

Ford pinched the bridge of his nose and took in deep, calming breaths, but he could already see shadows creeping around the edges of his vision. He heard his brother's voice, but it sounded mumbled and far away. He couldn't focus. Thoughts spun around in his brain, he felt dizzy, he wasn't sure if he could move.

It wasn't till a few minutes later that he realize they were already walking, Stan's reassuring grip on his arm and the guard - Tyler - leading the way. He'd completely missed the last few conversations, his mind gone.

But his shoulders relaxed as he focused on reality, his attention trained on his brother for an anchor.

***

"What on earth is _that_ all about?"

Tyler glanced back at Stanley, then tried to follow his gaze.

"What is what about?"

Stan pointed to the thick clear glass window that separated the group from a few dozen children firing weapons at targets. Tyler brows scrunched together, eyes narrowed, and then his face relax.

"Oh, you mean the nursery?"

" _Nursery_? Looks to me more like a bunch of kids in _combat training._ "

Tyler shrugged.

"This _is_ a military base. Really though, it's great fun." A slight smile graced his lips as he cast a nostalgic look towards the window.

Isaac stepped closer to Stan and nudged his arm.

"You'll have to forgive him. He's fresh outta Shooting Star. You don't get to be a security detail if you don't like drill school."

Stan crossed his arms.

" _Right._ " He looked Isaac up and down. "Guess it wasn't your thing then?"

Isaac glanced back at the window as they were walking, then away.

"Oh, an old timey like me wasn't around early enough for something like that."

They all arrived at the end of the long hall. Tyler swiped his key-card and they entered through a pair of double doors into a large gym. Stan glanced around at the small groups divided up into small sparring matches. There were several instructors going over moves with three or four people at once. He noticed on the far left wall was another large window. In it were strange creatures doing the same thing with more humans. Stan pointed to it.

"What's that over there?"

Tyler looked back at Stan, then at Isaac, till he walked away, heading for someone across the room. Isaac answered.

"Those are a few immigrants skilled in various forms of combat. Question Mark usually houses anyone who falls through a portal here, but some get transferred to other locations where they take up various duties. Like Rosie." Isaac looked down at the small girl who in turn, smiled up at them from her place at his side. "There's a multi-verse of information out there and it would be foolish to not utilize the bits that fall into our own dimension. With the multi-verse filled with so much danger it helps to continually find ways to improve defensive measures. What better way than to ask the very life forms who come from war conquering planets that have spent millennium mastering their own techniques?"

Stan let his eye wander.

"Sounds ... resourceful."

Isaac gave a proud grin.

"Brilliant, isn't it? We do something quiet similar in Pentagram."

Tyler walked over with what seemed to be one of the instructors.

"Isaac, you've met Nathaniel, right?"

There were introductions and the formal bows. Stanley scrunched his nose at that, but gave a reluctant nod as Nathaniel greeted him.

"I'm fighting with Stanford!"

Everyone turned to stare at Rosie with mixed expressions of shock and concern. Isaac scratched his chin, looking down at the girl.

"Rosie, I don't think that's - ,"

"Nope. I'm fighting with Stanford. It's alright. Our fighting styles clash really well."

Next to him, Ford slunk behind Stanley, his eyes fixed on Rosie like prey to its predator.

Nathaniel was shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, but that's not possible. Even if Dr. Pines hadn't been banned from sparring, I still wouldn't allow - ,"

Rosie waved him off.

"Don't worry it's fine," She faced Isaac. "Right?"

Isaac looked conflicted, but under Rosie's wide eyes he relented.

"Oh alright. If you think so."

"Yes!" she pumped her fist.

Stanley narrowed his eye at the her, but Nathaniel seemed borderline panicked.

"I'm sorry, but a _small child_ fighting - fighting - _him_?"

Isaac put a calm hand on his shoulder.

"You don't need to worry about that. Rosie is from a planet of covert warrior assassins."

Stanley felt Ford stiffen and got the obvious impression his brother was not aware of that particular piece of information. Stan, for his part, was really starting to wonder about this kid. Nathaniel eyed Rosie up and down.

"That - that still doesn't change - !" he let out a sigh, and turned to Tyler. "What do you think, recruit?"

Before Tyler could open his mouth, Stan interrupted.

"Oie. We're right here. Don't you think _he_ ," Stan jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Ford. "should decide?"

Everyone turned to glanced at them - except Rosie, who'd already had her eyes fixed on Ford. There was a moment of silence, that only Stan and Rosie seemed to feel the tension in. The small girl straightened and walked forward to grab Ford's wrist and pull him away. Stan snatched her arm.

"Hey," he growled.

She snatched it back.

"Don't worry Stanley. It'll be fine. And you and Nathaniel can pair up. Maybe he can teach you to actually throw a punch!"

Stan loosened and let his face drop into a sullen expression.

"Oie, come on ... ,"

Ford's face turned from anxious to upset. He yanked away his wrist and glared, jaw strained as he gritted his teeth. Tyler jerked forward, body tensed and ready for action. Isaac held up his hands.

"Everyone just calm down."

Rosie turned and started pushing Ford away from behind, hands planted against his back as she drove him forward.

"We have to get in practice time before precisely 18:37, human army standard time."

Isaac did a double take.

"Wait, what happens at 6:37?" he stepped forward. "Rosie? _Rosie_ ,"

But the girl was already gone, tugging, pulling, and pushing Ford halfway across the large room. Isaac cast an apprehensive glance around them, then turned to Nathaniel. "I'd - I'd uh ... alert security about that."

***

Stan put his hands on his knees and sucked in a few heavy breaths. Nathaniel mocked him.

"If you keep that pace up, you'll be outta the fight before it even starts."

Stan glared. The instructor stretched his arm over his head and took a step forward, making it clear he was ready for another go around. Stan lurched forward with a fist. They exchanged a series of blows, Nathaniel staying on the defensive as Stanley tried to get in a hit.

"You swing heavy, but," Nathaniel palmed away Stan's fist as he stepped back. "if you don't touch anything - ,"

Stan went for an uppercut. His opponent took yet another step back and hooked Stan's leg, dropping him to the floor.

" - then you're just wearing yourself out." Nathaniel detached himself and straightened. "And anyways, you keep yourself wide open."

Stan kicked out and caught his leg. Nathaniel reeled. Stan jumped to his feet and landed a solid punch. The instructor doubled over at the blow, but took Stan's arm and shoved him back to the floor. Stan stayed down, his focus on catching his breath.

"Heh," Nathaniel rubbed his chest. "you hit hard."

"You think - ," Stan breathed out and stood to his knee. " - I can't take a few blows? If it means I win in the end, then I'll go _all day_."

"I think you should conserve your energy. Wait for your opponent to come to you then strike hard and fast."

"More like wait for a wailing."

"Don't be stupid. Try this on for size - ," Nathaniel came forward with a fist.

Stan leaped back, then reached for a punch of his own. They exchanged blows, Nathaniel advancing as Stan held up his arms against the attack. Between shots, Stan lashed out when he saw an opening. He got in a single hit to his opponent's side before being knocked to the ground again.

Nathaniel walked around his eyes glimmering with ridicule.

"You make it too easy."

"Shut up."

Nathaniel held out a hand. Stan took it and pulled himself to his feet. The instructor tapped his foot with his own.

"Your feet are staying wide. It looks like that leaves you open. Bend your knees more and keep moving. You keep standing like a rock. Maybe if you were more agile you might actually have a chance."

"Sure. Whatever."

Nathaniel snorted.

"Where'd you learn to fight? Rudwit 7?"

"Listen pal. Just cause I don't know some fancy footwork, doesn't mean I can't _smear_ that smirk off your face - ,"

"You know, at least your brother can dodge."

"What's your problem?"

"What's _your_ problem? You come in here with this chip on your shoulder. You wanna fight - then _fight_. Otherwise you can just go sit on the bench. I don't like having my time wasted by someone who isn't even willing to dodge."

" _Fine_ ," Stan gritted his teeth as he swung.

They grappled, the distant fight taking on close quarters, and each slammed their fists hard into the other. Stanley came in close, being littered with a rapid fire stream of hard hits. He sacrificed keeping his safe distance in order to land his own blows, and despite Nathaniel's attempts to duck away, Stan landed on him hard.

"Enough!" Nathaniel pushed away his opponent and stumbled back, arm wrapped gingerly over his stomach.

Stan broke off and stood opposite, each of them leaning on their knees and sucking in air.

"That ... ," Nathaniel grimaced and shifted on his feet, his side no doubt still ablaze. "was ... an _improvement_ \- ,"

"Knees _bent_ enough for you?"

" But you weren't holding up any form of defense _at all_ \- ,"

Stan snorted.

"I still creamed you,"

"Yeah? But not without me getting in a few good blows myself."

Stan glared at him. Nathaniel glared back, till his expression softened and he let his eyes wander.

"Here's the thing. You're not bad. It's just your technique that needs the work," he glanced back and looked Stanley up and down. "You're definitely a fighter." he shrugged. "That much is obvious." he looked away again.

Stan glowered, till he noticed where Nathaniel was looking.

"Not at all like your brother." Nathaniel gestured across the room where Ford was warily listening to Rosie make wild gestures with her hands. "Like fire and ice you two. Kinda weird to be honest."

"You bruise one 'a his ribs too?"

The instructor looked back at Stan to see him holding his side. Nathaniel rolled his eyes with a smirk.

"Like I said fire and ice. He has a completely different fighting style,"

"You said he was _banned_ from sparring? How do you get _banned_?"

Nathaniel shook his head.

"Dr. Pines is incapable of following the safety rules and regulations,"

"Meaning ... ?"

"It _means_ ... he fights dirty. Too many broken noses, crushed feet, and dislocated sockets. I mean - the strategy _works_. Stay on the defensive till you see an opening. But it really isn't acceptable for practice. And it certainly does no one any favors when he gets - err. Well anyways," Nathaniel stretched his arms, made a slight grimace, then relaxed and stepped forward. "Again? Or are you too tired from 'creaming' me?" he put on a smug grin.

Stan dragged his eye off Ford to glare at Nathaniel.

"Let's go."

The instructor nodded, but his smile got wider.

"By the way. It might help if you ... _opened your eyes_ while you fought?"

Stan stiffened, and his face flushed red.

"Shut up."

***

Stanley rested against the wall. Rosie was next to him, her hand on her chin and her gaze intent on something across the room. Stanley glanced over at her.

"What're you lookin' at?"

The girl flickered her gaze to him, then pointed.

"Tracey."

Stanley tried to follow her finger. He pointed too.

"You mean that girl over there?"

Rosie shook her head.

"No, the green striped serpent with prongs."

"What?" Stanley squinted, then registered the window. Past it were the colorful bunch of aliens, working with humans in sessions of their own. "Oh. Right."

"Tomorrow is her birthday."

Stanley raised a brow.

"So that's a she?"

"Her planet doesn't complete a full rotation around its sun, but once every seven years."

Stan shrugged and cast his gaze around the rest of the room.

"Oh, yeah. _Fascinating_."

"Tomorrow 's her first birthday in seven years. The first birthday since she's been away from her home planet."

"Hey, where'd Ford go?" He shifted, wincing as a bruise flared. Nothing he couldn't walk off, but he needed the break.

"She doesn't even know. To her, tomorrow just feels like another day."

"Oh, wait. Found 'em."

Ford and Nathaniel were sparring. When it came down to it, the instructor was right. Ford had a way different style of fighting. Not that Stan didn't know that. He just never really thought about it before. It was just more obvious as he watched Nathaniel talk most of the time vs the brutal session he put Stanley through. He muttered under his breath.

"No fair, you jerk."

"Another day far away from home. Lost in a strange dimension."

"I know the feeling."

She shifted her gaze to him.

"Really?" She tilted her head.

"Uh, yeah." He glanced at her. "Say, um. What'd you tell Ford when you gave him a reading? You can't _really_ tell the future, can you?"

"Most times that's not actually how that works."

"Well then ... what'd you end up tellin' him?"

"Well I started out with reminding him that he's one Stanford out of infinity. And that his existence should be meaningless because in over a million billion worlds you and him die brutal, unforgiving deaths of painful agony, but that you don't even exist in just as many - ,"

"Wait, you _what_?"

"But once I pulled his first card it was made clear that his life has meaning and that any choices he makes could either save lives, or destroy all of the multi-verse as we know it, so no pressure - ,"

"You told this to _Stanford_?"

"And it was also obvious that he would be influential in the coming apocalypse, but that he should be more worried about next Tuesday (which is really an undefined Tuesday) - actually I don't really know what this whole Tuesday thing is about. But something terrible is definitely going to happen on that day of the week at some point in time - ,"

"You lost me."

"If, of course, he doesn't die before then, which is a real possibility - ,"

"Whoa, hold on - ,"

"And then I drew his _second_ card out of my pentagram arrangement - ,"

"Oh my gosh."

"Hey - can I give _you_ a reading?"

"Not a chance in hell."

" _Hey_." Rosie pouted. "Let me down lightly why don't ya."

***

Alarms went off. Ford's eyes darted to the flashing purple lights flashing above him. Everyone stopped what they were doing and started organizing towards the exits. An authoritative voice called out directions.

"Everyone to your room. An unauthorized breach has been detected."

Ford thought back to a few months ago. When a wave a confusion surrounded by the same distressing noise. Being surrounded. Not knowing what was going on, or where that portal had brought him.

He spotted Rosie sitting on the floor, one hand on her chin and her green gaze glued to the large window that separated the two gyms. Beyond it, a shimmery blue oval opened and Ford's eyes went wide as a mass of colorful horned rhinos came pounding in. There was panic, loud screeching, and chaos on the other side of the glass. On the human side, people cast, at most, a worried glance, more in fear for their own safety than any concern for the aliens taking defense stances against the invading beasts.

Splotched patches of goo burst away from the rhinos, and what Ford had assumed to be markings, turned out to be a form of parasitic globs. He watched with Rosie, unable to help as a fight broke out. The instructors on that side of the room worked to create order, and shoved the other aliens out of the room.

One of the creatures - a snake with green and blue stripes, covered in thistles - had one of the parasites latch on. As it's body was engulfed, the alien slowed its thrashing, till it stopped moving altogether. Another creature moved near and tried to help, but the snake broke into a fit and began attacking the other lifeforms in the room.

Ford flinched back as blue and purple splattered across the window. He noticed one of the instructors holster a gun and go on directing the chaos.

The serpent creature was nowhere to be seen - blasted into nothing.

Ford shook his head and looked around, hoping to find Stanley. He caught Rosie's eyes. The little girl's gaze bore into his, the green flashing against her neutral expression. A wide smile broke across her features and Ford took a sharp step back.

He ran into Stan.

"There you are!" Stan latched onto his wrist and swung him around.

Ford turned and breathed in a sigh of relief at the sight of his brother. Isaac walked over. He grabbed Rosie's arm and pulled her to her feet.

"Why didn't you say something?"

She gave him a confused smile.

"I did."

" _No_ ," Isaac gave a wild gesture around. "About _this_. You knew this would happen. Rosie, we talked about this."

"I told ... ," Rosie gave the room a quick once over and landed on Stan. "Stanley. I told Stanley _all_ about it while we were having fun."

"That - ," Stan pointed a sharp finger at the girl. "That right there is a _baldfaced lie_."

She smirked and stuck her tongue out at him. Stan dropped his arm, looking affronted. Ford closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He pulled his brother away and followed the others into the hall.

\---

The streams of people floating to their destinations broke off and split into exits, each following some detailed grid Stanley couldn't seem to figure out. He cast his gaze behind him, noticing the mob dispersing as they got further away. The pack was thinning, and all the fuss seemed overstated if he hadn't seen near _dinosaurs_ trampling in. His nose twitched and turned his attention forward, letting his eye drop to the ground. There was nothing special about the monotone white tiles and his two feet taking strides - one step, then the other. It was easy enough to let his mind blur the details.

A light flickered to life at his side. He rammed into the wall, dropping to the ground, mind spinning. Stanley focused on shaking away stars, but the damp stench of something's soggy breathing hung over him. He lifted his head to stare into the wild, bloodshot gaze of a hippo.

Rhino? Did it matter?

The eyes left his sphere of sight and he found himself staring into a spinning circle of blue. It flashed then disappeared, leaving Stanley confused as he tried to understand what was going on.

He heard Ford struggling against something and used the wall to help force himself to his feet. His vision refused to focus. Great blobs heightened to rich textured detail, then blurred again. He pressed a hand against his temple and closed his eyes. A heavy snort echoed behind him and Stanley turned. He prepared for a fight, any thoughts of caution flying from his head. The length of a horn smacked against his chest, forcing him back. Stan dug in his heels, holding off a shove to the ground. Too late and the thing reared. Stan crashed backwards and landed with a groan. The bones in his back flared in pain. Relishing the sensation for a moment, he pushed himself back to his feet. The rhino stood, a daunting smudge of mixed colors. Another shape ran against its side, and the forms twisted together as Stan squinted.

A goo slapped onto his face and Stanley flailed.

His fingers ripped into it, but they couldn't manage to tug it off. Another set of hands joined his, but Stanley couldn't register his brother's help as his mind grew hazy and his struggling slowed.

He felt his consciousness wane, till, what felt like seconds later, Stanley blinked his eye open, staring at white tiles and his shoes.

Out of nowhere he was taking deep breaths, hands on his knees. His face stung but he was still standing. Breaking out his fog Stan looked up to see the focusing image of the rhino. His eyes still went in and out, but he forced himself to really _look_. He saw streams of color leaking from a point at its side - something there stuck out at a cruel angle. He couldn't think fast enough to guess what, or why, but instead listened for Ford. He listened for more attacks, more danger, but found silence.

Then a wince, followed by a gasp.

Stan turned towards the noise, to see Ford leaning against the wall, looking like a nightmare. His hair at odds, clothes ruffled and torn at one sleeve. He was holding an arm against his chest, straddling it gently.

Stan paused only a moment. A thought - or memory have you - rising to the surface before he shoved it away.

" _You're hurt_." Stan came forward. He heard steps approaching down the hall, but he focused on his brother as the features of distress became clearer.

Ford shifted, then blanched, his face taking on a sweaty sheen as he grit his teeth. Stan held his hands at bay, unwilling to touch him and cause him more pain.

"What is it? Where exactly?" He tried to see, and noticed the red stick of white. A shiver went down his spine at the unnatural sight of _bone_ sticking up.

The foot falls came into view and Stan tilted to see someone stopping short as they turned the corner.

"What in - ?" It was a woman, and she stared baffled for a moment at the thing lying on the floor. Her eyes trailed to the brothers and her face shifted into a more fixed expression. She came forward, pulling out a box, clicking a button on its side, and speaking into it. "Corridor B. Low priority risk." She dropped it and gave Ford a glance over. "You need to go to the medical bay. Down that hall - ,"

A fizzing sound interrupted her and the three of them looked to see a swirling blue portal open up. Another large rhino came crashing in and the woman tensed, jerking the speaker back to her mouth.

"Corridor B. _Immediate_ assistance required." She waved the brothers off with a wild gesture. "Go! Down the hall! We'll handle this." She turned back around to deal with the creature.

The twins moved away, Ford grimacing and Stan feeling his own pathetic injuries bite at him.

At the same time he heard a crash, then a shout behind them, it dawned on Stanley that Ford had gotten hurt trying to help him. The simplest realization made his stomach twist.

***

"Bend it down." The doctor gestured at Ford with her hand.

He gave his fingers an experimental flex, then let his arm stretch straighter. The doctor nodded when he was fully able to extend it.

"Good. Back up again."

Stanley leaned against a wall and stared out the glass door. Its clouded view showed shapes crossing the corridor.

" _Dr. Pines_ \- ,"

Stan glanced over to see Ford struggling to pull his arm away from the doctors grip, her nails pressing into his skin for a hold.

"All the medicine in the universe can't help you if you _won't_ \- _co-operate_ \- _please_ hold still - ,"

In one smooth stride, Stan stepped over and caught her wrist.

"What?"

The woman glanced between him and Ford - his arm curled against his chest, shoulders tense, breathing deep - with a disparaging look. She took her hand back.

"I'm almost done. Really I am. Just a _little_ more co-operation."

Stan spotted the needle in her other palm. Before she could protest too much, he reached over and snatched it.

"I'll do it." He cast a inquiring glance Ford's way.

He got a half-hearted nod, but his brother's gaze was somewhere else. Outside something slammed into the door and Stan jerked back. He stared as a body pressed against the window, then slid off. There was a shout, then the sound of gun bursts.

"Do they need help?"

A purple something splattered across the glass and Stanley took in a sharp breath, scrunching his nose, disgusted. The doctor ran a hand through her well tamed hair, straight and falling across her shoulders, and turned around to fix a number of her instruments with a sigh.

"Honestly ... ,"

"I'm serious." Stan went over and tried to peek between the mess. "Those things are kinda a nightmare."

Behind the door a trio of undistinguished shapes were grappling with a bigger blob.

"They'll get that cleaned up easily enough within - oh, an hour or so." The doctor paused, looking up into nothing, and added to herself, "Then my shift'll end and I can go back to bed - early too. Perfect timing for a breach. That's the _last_ time I stay up reading so late ... ,"

Stan stepped back and glanced down, inspecting the unmarked syringe.

"What's in this anyway?" He turned it over in his palm.

The doctor dropped her things back onto the table and turned.

"A serum of highly adaptable enzymes, specialized for muscle tissue that'll help the kinks in his arm to finish readjusting and rearranging themselves. Don't bother asking where it came from. I have a hard enough time remembering what it does, let alone which dimension we found it in. Now are you going to find and locate the proper vein, or will I actually be allowed to help?"

Stan looked between the needle and his brother. Ford had his jaw set, as if tensing for what came next. Stanley turned to the doctor.

"Show me."

She lifted a hand and rubbed at her temples.

"For heaven's sake ... ,"

***

Rosie sat in a corner of the lab and shuffled her cards. She eyed Marlia speaking with the Senator, the scientists eyes drifting to the back room. Rosie hovered a hand over her deck and closed her eyes.

_Come on, come on, come on. You know what I want to see - come on._

She flipped the top card.

_Drat._

It was - most unfortunately - nothing more than a sneering grin. Metaphorically at least.

_One of these days ..._

She hoped to draw Death. But Rosie had a sneaky suspicion that Vestra Doer would a live long, happy life. Perhaps even gain immortality just to spite the purple alien girl trespassing in her precious 'magic devision.' No. If the Death card was ever pulled, it would be utterly symbolic.

_Too bad._

Marlia began to stutter, her body angling away as she tried to separate herself from the conversation. However the Senator had far too many questions to let her go so quick.

"But testing should only take another hour or so, correct?"

"Y-yes, um - ," Marlia cough, her eyes dropping in a self-conscious gesture. "After the computer finishes running simulations it should be ready. B-but um - ,"

"And it was collaborating with Pentagram that finally troubleshooted any remaining issues?"

"Partly. Yes that - it helped, but you see. There's an issue with a - a prototype - from the breach - ,"

Rosie's attention was stolen by the twins that stepped into the lab. She smiled at the thought. None of the three scientists had been able to tear themselves away from the project, Base regulations aside. They would each stay up all night if they had to, the end far too close in sight.

"Yeesh, it's like a ghost bunker around here. Is it always this empty out there at night?" Stanley turned his gaze from his brother and stopped to stare at Vestra.

Rosie shuffled her cards and flipped the top.

_No dice._

Vestra paused her speech and took a moment to notice the twins. Marlia used the opportunity to step away, then swivel on her heel and head towards the back room. Vestra noticed.

"Where are you - ?"

But the scientist was already gone. She'd turned the corner and, from where she sat, Rosie could hear Isaac mutter a fast paced comment on the current situation. She flipped another card. Nothing.

_Actually - wait a sec ..._

Something blew - a low toned bang hit against a wall and there were a pair of alarmed shouts. Marlia's voice carried out from the back.

"Dr. Pines I need you!"

Stanford eyes jumped to the back room and he darted past the Senator and made his way over.

Rosie took in a deep breath.

A bigger accident and Isaac could have gotten really hurt. She'd never be able to do anything because she was always asking the wrong questions. She could never act in time. Could never find a way to prevent disasters and warn victims. Would only create the outcome while attempting to stop the complicated twists of fate. All her knowledge and she was still so _useless -_

She breathed out.

Stanley was standing, body directed away from Vestra in a defensive position as he glanced her up and down. Rosie smiled. He looked awkward and clunky and like a doofus. It was funny. Then Vestra nodded her head and greeted him.

"Mr. Pines."

Rosie rolled her eyes. She flipped another card and pouted when, once again, she came up short. The atmosphere in the room grew tense as the two adults left in the main part of the lab stood at odds, each harboring some inexplicable sense of distrust for the other. That was odd. Rosie shuffled her deck again.

Stanley put his hands in his pockets.

"I think me and you need to have a chat."

Vestra narrowed her eyes. After a second's thought she fixed the edge of her sleeves.

"My office then. I think there's something I'd like to show you." She glanced up at him for sign of approval.

Stanley's gaze fixed itself to where Stanford had disappeared, but he tore his eye away and gave a reluctant nod. Rosie watched them both leave the room. Stanley cast a last look over his shoulder, doubt heavy in his features, but he went anyways. Rosie flipped a card.

The image of Death stared back at her and Rosie's eyes widened.

_I was just kidding around, I didn't actually want -_

She shifted in her spot, brows furrowing in confusion.

***

Vestra opened the door and motioned for him to step inside. Stanley Pines entered, back facing her, and Vestra walked over to her desk. She straightened a box, giving it cursory glance.

It held a mix of trans-dimensional portal watches, - the newest issue - a half dozen of the new handcuff prototypes needing special approval for use in Question Mark, and several various alien weapons. She'd get around to sorting out the paperwork, but in the meantime Vestra felt a chill. She made a mental note to turn up the radiator sitting in the corner, - her personal comfort of classic room decor.

She cast another glance towards the man still facing away. She got the impression that he was taking a look around. But Vestra had other thoughts on her mind.

She had her suspicions. She'd been informed that some of the more subtle alarms had went off rather early that morning. And now the project was nigh minutes away from completion, sprung from a break-through seemingly out of nowhere. The small hairs across her arms kept standing on end, and it may have just been a coincidence, but a breach on the very same day couldn't have bode well.

It all started with the arrival of Stanley Pines.

The very same man turned and planted his single-eyed gaze on her.

"I'm not gonna beat around the bush here. My brother caught me up on a little of what he's been doing the last six months, and little to pretty much none of it helps me trust you."

Vestra pulled on a thin smile, her insides starting to quail. She couldn't believe the audacity of this man - barging in her and taking control as if he hadn't been gone all these weeks. While _Vestra_ was the one who had recognized Stanford Pines for his potential. While _she_ was the one who had been beyond patient and spent so much time trying to make the doctor safe for human interaction - let alone intelligible.

"No one ever said you had to 'trust' me Mr. Pines. I'm practically a born politician, 'credibility' was never part of the job description." She gave a half-hearted chuckle, then let out a breath. "However, I would hope you could at least work with me in achieving similar goals. Trying to be difficult will only waste both our time."

Stanley Pines looked her up and down.

"Let me rephrase. I don't ' _like_ ' you." He crossed his arms, lip curling up. "You've been messing with Ford. I don't know how much, but it really wasn't a good idea to start playing with his head 'cause now you've gotta answer to _me_." He jab a thumb, pointing to himself.

"I hardly think - ,"

"And you know what? I don't even think I wanna hear what you have to say. Just that you need to know to stay away from my brother. I'm here now, and you're not going to go anywhere near him."

She bit the inside of her cheek, patience wearing thin.

"You have it wrong Mr. Pines. I've only been working towards - ,"

"Sounds to me like I've got it _right_. You've been _using_ him haven't you? You aren't the first, but you _are_ going to be the last."

Vestra dropped any pretense of a smile and scowled.

"Yes, I've been told about his previous mishaps - and it's a sentiment I _share_. If you knew the extent of - but no. Instead you've gone and - what? Summoned Bill Cipher? To spite me? Because if you truly understood the capacity of his violence you would never _dream_ to do something so utterly incompetent - ,"

" _Hey_ \- ," Stanley Pines's jaw was tense, his shoulders stiff as he fought off his own discomfort at the sting of her words. "first of all, I know exactly what he's capable of. I ain't gonna pretend that wasn't a mistake, but I have my reasons and they're none of your business."

"Do I look daft? How dumb do you think I am to -?"

"Daft? Sure, you're a real piece of work."

Vestra gritted her teeth.

" _Just because_ \- ," She pinched the bridge of her nose and took in a breath. "Just because I'm not some 'genius scientist', _doesn't mean_ I don't have other skills. Like knowing when I'm being _lied_ to - ,"

"If anyone's being dishonest here it's - ,"

" _Which means_ that when you told me you weren't working with Cipher, I _believed_ you. _I still do_." He opened his mouth to say something else and she held up a hand. "If you really want to help your brother then you'll work with me to do what I've been working at for years. Help me keep Cipher out and stop being instrumental in letting him _in_." She leveled her gaze.

Stanley Pines glared at her, before he dropped his eye and seemed thoughtful. Vestra took the opportunity to open a drawer in her desk. Inside she retrieved a folder marked 'Stanford Pines.'

"I think _this_ might help suede you." She stepped around the furniture and leaned against the edge, holding out the file. "I've only been trying to help." Stanley Pines stretched out a doubtful hand and took it as she went on. "It hasn't been easy, but I think my efforts at least deserve to be rewarded in the payment of your _co-operation._ "

He opened to am image and sucked in a breath. Vestra watched him, perfectly aware of that first picture. Before it was washed away, a photo of Stanford's room was taken after his most recent lapse. The zodiac wheel drawn in large marker and the many crossed out eyes. The repetition of the name 'Stanley' in various forms, everywhere on the walls. A madman's creation that conveyed the sharpest understanding of the doctor's unhinged reality.

Stanley Pines went on to read the various accounts. Vestra spent a moment recalling the parts that had stuck out to her the most.

'Various assault attempts,' 'paranoid disillusion,' 'ommetaphobia,' 'selective speech,' 'anxiety attacks,' 'mistrust of personal,' 'night terrors, aggressive behavior, and insistence on inflicting self-harm in efforts to escape leaves no choice but physical restraint and an increased dosage in prescribed medications labeled - ,' so on and so forth, etc.

His expression grew darker with each flip of a page. Darker and more reserved as she watched his single eye flicker back and forth across the words and descriptions stated there. She didn't know what she had expected. A nod followed by an apologetic smile and an agreement to work together? Whatever the case, when she felt the folder shoved back into her hands and stared at the backside of Stanley Pines's head as he went to leave, she found herself growing angry.

"Where do you think you're going?"

He paused to give her another glare.

"You want to work together to keep Cipher out?" He whipped around. "I think I'll take my chances with the triangle, thanks."

Vestra felt the heat rising in her cheeks till she couldn't keep from exploding.

" _What_? Don't be an _idiot_! No one in their right mind doesn't take any chance they can get keep him away! If you think you can fight against him and _win_ , then you don't know him at all! The best you can hope for is to run away and make it out alive! He's merciless and will tear you, your brother, and everyone and everything you have every know into shreds! He - !"

"I am perfectly aware of what Cipher can do, so don't go lecturing _me_!" Stanley Pines's hand had been on the door's knob, but now he turned to face Vestra full of fury. "But cowering fear only lets _him_ win. This entire pathetic system you've built around 'security' and 'protection' feeds his ego!"

Vestra slammed a fist on her desk, the box bouncing.

"It keeps up safe! It hunts out traitors and makes sure everyone is aware of who the enemy is! When _your_ entire planet gets _blown to pieces_ \- one country at a time while you try fighting your way out with dignity and pride - !"

"Pride? What kind of pride is there in - !"

"When you realize that no amount of politics, no amount of self respect, or any degree of weakness will let you salvage any part of a broken world because everyone else is _dead_! And the only way to hope to live is to band together - even when your _neighbor_! Your _best friend_! _Mother_! _Sister_! Yes _BROTHER_ could be possessed! Working to help a triangle's _psychopathic idea of revenge_ because you refused to end the world - _and it happened anyways_! _Then_ you can tell me what your idea of 'winning' is because _to me_ , it looks like we're surviving!"

Stanley Pines stood, fists trembling at the ready. He looked like he wanted to swing. Realizing this, Vestra's eyes widened and she tried to remember how the whole 'fighting thing' worked as her heart beat in time with her own anger. If he had decided to let loose she would have been down for the count.

Instead he lowered an indecisive fist from its shaky wobble in the air, and Vestra felt a sudden rush in the aftermath of adrenaline. The one second show-down set her teeth on edge and it wasn't until the door slammed that she realized he was gone.

***

He was just around the corner when he told himself to take a breath and calm down. He hadn't told Ford he was leaving. If he came back all wound up it'd only put his brother on edge too.

But that woman - !

He hit a fist against the wall, then forced himself to relax. Breathe. It'd be fine. That machine thing was ready, and this time Stanley was around to keep it all straight. He ran a hand through his hair and walked up to the lab door.

He fumbled, looking for a handle a moment, before he remembered his key-card and stepped inside with a self-depreciating grimace. His mood only worsened when he noticed the heavy grit of residue marking the entrance to the back room.

There'd been an explosion.

"Ford!" He strode forward, face set, only to stop at the sight of Marlia walking out with a bag of ice to her head. He ran over. "Hey! What happened? Where's my brother? He's okay, right?" He tried to look past and saw Isaac walking out too, with a similar cold package against his temple.

Marlia winced at his loud tone and waved him off.

"It's um ... ," She bit her lip trying to grasp the words that wouldn't come.

Isaac stumbled in his approach and leaned on a table.

"That was one heck of a doosie there. Marlia I think you might have ... have a um ... oh, what's the word?"

"Concussion." She lowered her arm, readjusted her ice pack before replacing it. Her eyes caught Stan as if noticing him for the first time. "Oh, Stanley. I think I saw Stanford ... walking away." Her eyes glanced to the door and got a foggy look before she shrugged.

Stanley gave the room a quick glance around, even as he tried to remember if he'd crossed paths with his brother's coat-tails in the hall.

"You sure? Why? Where did he go? Was he alright? What happened?"

Isaac took a look around the room too.

"One of the prototypes was damaged. In the breach, by an invading creature I guess. We couldn't stabilize it in time. I might've blacked out. But when I came to, I think saw Dr. Pines walking on two feet - ," He leaned further against the corner. "Right about now, I don't think I can really say the same, heh." He smiled, then winced and dropped his head into his arms.

Stanley pursed his lips then turned away from the two scientists. He stopped as he caught sight of Rosie.

She was huddled against the wall in a corner, trying to ignore being seen as much as possible. Her jaw was tight clenched as her green eyes bore into him. She looked out of character, sitting there so disturbed. An idea came to him.

"Hey! You know where my brother went? I left without saying nothin' and I don't need him - ," he stopped cold as he noticed the card she was holding.

It was stamped with the image of a great yellow triangle around a single, snake slitted eye. He tensed, cold flooding his veins. She followed his gaze, then jerked the picture against her chest, hiding it from view. But it was too late. He'd already come up with several terrible possibilities in his mind.

" _Tell me where he is._ " His voice was hard, and left no room for question.

"Stanley w-w-wait. You don't know what it says. What it _means_ \- ,"

"I _know_ you know. Where'd he go?" He stepped forward.

"Please Stanley. I - I don't - ," She closed her mouth and pressed her lips in a firm line.

After a moment Stan turned and looked behind him at the door opposite. That Tesseract thing was _here_. So where was Ford?

"Fine." He turned back around and headed towards the exit. "I'll find him on my own - ,"

"No wait - !"

He paused and glanced at her, confused by the panic in her voice.

"What? You know something to help me, or not?

She bit her lips, uncertainty dominating her features. After a moment she squeezed her eyes shut and lowered her head. Stan frowned, but when she wouldn't say anything more, he left, thinking of all the places he might look.

He'd try heading back to the room - if he could find it.

But Rosie sat where she was and took another glance at her card. A shiver ran down her back and she hugged her legs close to her chest. Isaac glanced over at her.

"Rosie?" He tried to stand straighter. "Are you okay? Is everything alright?"

She buried her head in her knees and shook her head in a firm ' _No_.'


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Some death. No wait ... did I say 'some?' Scale of one to five - how do you rate OC character's deaths? And also - oh Blood. I think I should add blood. Wait ... no, yeah. I should definitely add blood. And probably torture. Multiple ... kinds of torture. I think. And ... pretty much things start going down, alright?)

_There - Stanford_

The door was left wide open. Half a dozen arachnids disappeared into the house. Next came the shocked scream of fear and panic.

Maybe if Ford had walked away. Left things be. Maybe everything would have worked itself out.

But more than likely that home would still end up with four dead bodies and six unpunished murders. Ford would still be walking to nowhere, and the humans and arachnids would still be in a bitter feud.

So he went in after them. Ford entered through the doorway, stopping at the sight of the wife battling on eight legs, knifed limbs struggling against two of her own kind. The husband tried to lash out with a fist, but a web shot at his arm, keeping it restrained. One of the six intruders hooked him under the jaw and he doubled over in pain. Two children huddled together in the far corner. Two young boys, kept under guard by the last two of the attacking group.

None of them expected Ford. Even less so when Ford's vision tunneled and he grabbed the nearest lamp. Swinging it over the closest arachnids head, he sent the spider crumpling to the ground.

Everyone paused in shocked, but the wife recovered with well adjusted skills and turned on her opponent, gaining the upper hand. Soon there was an all out brawl between the couple and the six attackers. An arachnid swiped at Ford's arm, cutting a gash that burned.

Ford stumbled back, clutching at his wound, but his mind was racing with images. The eyes appeared, and they were grinning. Edging Ford on, encouraging him. For once Ford didn't try to stave them off.

Ignoring the pain, he readjusted his grip on the lamp and swung. The heavy bottom caught a spider by its head, and it went crashing to the ground.

Ford swung again. The heavy tool found its way into its victims ribs. Again and the abdomen was crush. Again and it was bleeding. Again. And again. And again.

Ford wasn't thinking. He really wasn't. He was acting. Thoughtlessly he focused on what felt right. The comforting strain of his arms. The give of bone and muscle and limbs under the force of his hands.

He didn't notice an arachnid screech in pain as the wife sunk her knifed limb deep into its body. He didn't notice the husband choke back blood as a well placed blow found his chest. It was beyond his view to notice the wife's eyes widened as her husband's figure fell to his knees.

Ford stopped swinging, his breath coming in ragged gasps and he looked around to see half the company dead. A looming shadow appeared behind him and Ford turned, waving his bloody weapon in a wild arc. The arachnid snatched it away, his eyes dark. The sharp claw of its leg scissored towards Ford's head and he ducked, face pale, legs beginning to grow weak.

Behind them the wife took on another opponent, face a ball of fury. Ford ducked under more vicious swipes, but soon the wife had moved on and attacked his attacker. They tussled as Ford eyed the last remaining arachnid, his stomach a rock of knots. His gaze then trailed to the two children, their faces a tear streamed mess.

Another screech of pain had him jerk to see the wife cut down. The weaponized limb of a spider's leg caught deep in the woman's side. The creature pulled away, and the wife fell to the floor in a growing pool of blood.

The two remaining arachnids turned on him. Their expressions were full of undisguised malice. Ford backed away, heart racing. One lept for him and Ford rolled away. More images filled his mind, and despite the shivers that they sent down his spine, Ford didn't hesitate to act.

A old bottle of wine, empty and preserved as a decoration on a shelf, found its way into Ford's hands and he lashed out. He fought against the ice in his veins that threatened to immobilize him and instead focused on the glass in his hands. So many things could become a weapon, and with a single crash against the wall, pointed shards stretched out towards his opponents.

They tumbled together across the room, but finally Ford rolled out from under the heavy weight of a dead arachnid, it's blood streaking across his clothes. He pulled away and stood by the far wall, legs giving out as he sunk to the floor.

Ford wrapped his arms tight around his body, holding himself close as he took in shuddering breaths. His eyes surveyed the room. The bodies sat in a blaze of chaos, a eerie silence falling on the house. He glanced towards the children.

Ford froze.

They were staring at him. The eight grouped, spider like arrangement of eyes reminiscent of their mother's species. But it was the surreal sockets, dotting the rest of their body, all the way to their wrists and neck. _Those_ had Ford cringing back.

And the children were smiling. Ford's vision shook, his perspective tuning in and out, but their malicious grins were unmistakable.

Ford folded tighter in on himself, pressing as far against the wall as he could.

_Stop that. Stop smiling. Stop!_

The eyes. They surrounded him. They dotted the walls, the ceiling, everywhere. The children stared at him with those unnerving smiles. The older, taller one, held his smaller brother close.

Ford hid his head in his knees, shaking it as if internal denial could make the vision stop. It was still ghostly silent. A floor board creaked and he jerked up. The children were coming close. Everyone was dead and they were stepping towards Ford, faces an expression of glee.

_No, no, no! Stay away from me!_ _Stay_ _away! Go away!_

They circled him. Images played in his mind. He needed to _make_ them go away. He could do any number of things to force the haunting expressions out. The eyes wanted him to. They were encouraging him with their wicked smiles.

Even the children seemed eager for his reaction. So many images, so many ideas. His mind supplied them in telling detail as he tried to squeeze his own lids shut. All horrific and bloody, but none as terrifying as the reality he found himself in.

He didn't move. Neither did the kids. He stared at them, eyes darting at their every motion. Nothing made sense. It didn't need to. The victims of a societies abuse were overtaken by the eyes. He couldn't spare them pity - not now. Not since they were overtaken by the eyes to torment him. Their grins a beacon of ridicule. A temptation and threat.

But they didn't attack.

Ford sat there and watched them. They didn't attack. They just stared. He stared back. For forever he just stared back.

***

He didn't know when he fell asleep. A sound in the doorway had him jerking awake. He looked up to see nothing.

Letting out a sigh, Ford glanced around before sucking in a breath.

It was different. It was all different. The very room was rearranged. There were only five offending arachnids, not six. The wife's head was bleeding on a different side of the room, but her chest was whole. Not a single sign of the injury he'd thought ended her.

The children were dead. Everyone was dead. They were all dead.

Ford brought a slow hand to his gaping mouth, eyes wide, threatening tears.

He didn't know. He didn't know anymore. If things were different he had no idea what really happened. He thought the kids were okay. He thought - he thought that maybe he had helped at least let them survive after the barbaric mess, even when his mind had -

He hoped that by helping someone else he could take his thoughts off his solitude. By taking action he could ignore the fact that his brother was still missing and all he had for company were his vain illusions. Now it only heightened his seclusion even more. He longed for a comforting presence, but instead drew closer together, fingers digging through his hair as he trembled. 

He couldn't take his eyes off the kids. The older one bloodied and bruised. That one had taken far too many hits from something blunt. The other bleeding and doubled over. The faintest hint of glass peeking out in pieces from under him. 

Ford's stomach coiled with doubt and horror. His shoulders began to shake, overwhelmed with nauseous disbelief and appalled emotion. He'd thought - hoped. Believed for a moment that despite the eyes. Despite everything -  

Ford didn't know. He really just didn't know.

***

Ford found himself walking again. Far, far away from the mess he left behind. He scratched at the blood on his hands, his breathing becoming hitched and panicked when it wouldn't go away. 

Till it did, in a flash of his vision, and he was left with sore palms - clean but for the feeling of being rubbed raw. He let his head drop into his arms with a tired sob, exhausted by so much fear. 

In his aftermath, Arachnids came. A dozen or so to see where the missing members of their society had gotten to. They came in, faces shocked as they looked around. They went about their business. They were officials. Police investigating. The five dead arachnids seemed to be trouble makers. Men looking for someone to hurt. Who better than the family on the hill? Racial biases on inter-species breeding. There was no one to punish. The men got what was coming to them.

They took the bodies. All of them. Even the human husband and the two strange half human boys. 

Ford wouldn't know. He simply kept moving. Unsure of where, or why. Lost in a temporary haze till he forgot, or ignored, or met his next incident.    

Until a blue swirling portal appeared in front him and he decided to walk through.

***

_Now_

"Pen. Pen." Vestra rifled through her desk. " _Pen_."

She had paperwork. She needed something to _write with_. 

"I can't seriously," she moved papers aside and picked up the box, looking underneath, "have - ," she threw the cardboard down in frustration. " -  _all this stuff_." Her fists tightened in to balls. "And not a _single_ pen?" She let out an angry snarl. 

Ripping into her drawer, she shoved her way past its content, till she tore the whole thing out and dumped it upside down. 

"Stapler. _Paper clip_. NOTEPAD - !" She stopped. 

There, sitting beneath the mess, a golden image glinted from under a pile of folders. The tension in her shoulders dropped. Her irritation melted away and Vestra reached out a hand to pull the pendant further into view. 

A solid gold triangle hanging from a chain stared back. Her fingers ran across its smooth surface, Vestra's mind turning elsewhere. She stood for a long moment, poring over the precious metal and its curious shape. 

"Mm." Her thoughts drifted. 

The door clicked open. Vestra clamped her fingers around the necklace before she scrambled to thrust it out of view. Her eyes flickered to the door and she spotted a broad shouldered man with a square jaw. Concealing the object in her front pocket, Vestra's eyes narrowed. 

He was back. Maybe Stanley had reconsidered her proposal. She resolved to be civil, but if he had come for a fight ... 

Well she wasn't sure just what exactly she'd do, but she needed him to not act so infuriating and _work with her_ if she was ever to keep Bill Cipher from - 

A hand grabbed her wrist and she whirled to stare into the glowing pressure of two yellow orbs, broken by deep, intense black slits. Thoughts froze on her tongue. She could only look. Only take in the stare, boring into her from behind a familiar pair of glasses. Only notice the six fingers on her wrist. Only feel the weight of the necklace in her pocket ... 

She could see teeth behind a crooked smile, the expression unlike anything she'd ever witnessed on that face. It brought back cold memories. 

"I told you I'd be back. Didn't mean to take so long, but you sure are determined, eh Bleeding Heart?" 

She needed to move. Break away, step back, shove her fist haphazardly in that face, but instead she stared, dumbstruck. Vestra could hear her heart beating in her chest. Its calm, steady rhythm a hammer. For that moment, her thoughts were scattered in a hail storm of surprise. Trying to understand what she was looking at. What was going on. That Bill Cipher was standing in front of her once again, for the first time in over  _30 years_. 

She swallowed, the feeling hard and rough against her throat. 

The hand let go, but Cipher's gaze never wavered. He stepped back.

"Kinda of a pain to be honest. All the work you cost me - ," his hand slid into the box on her desk, stopping mid sentence to grab a gun. Its aim jumped to her chest, the action out of nowhere. 

Vestra yelled in shock, diving for cover, and a blast dug itself into the wall right behind where she had just stood. _Now_ her heart sped up. Her head unfroze and she hid behind the piece of furniture, thoughts racing. He began to laugh. 

"HAHAHA! The look on your face! _Priceless_." 

She gritted her teeth, berating herself for becoming distracted. She should know by now how to handle these situations. Perhaps she was rusty because Cipher now had the upper hand.

" 'B-B-B-B - _Bill'_!" he mocked. "I didn't think it was possible - but you've gotten funner!" 

Vestra peeked out from around an edge. Cipher's words were punctuated by another blast. A wave of heat seared just past her face and she shot back. She could hear heavy feet stepping around, the demon sauntering in the room with an air of owning it.

"Look at that! Ha! I mean if you'd prefer - ," 

Several more blasts went off, and to Vestra's surprise they were aimed nowhere near her. She grew confused, but forced herself to act. Any time wasted was time Cipher would turn from his thoughts and it was time she couldn't waste. She crept towards the front of her desk and slipped between the chair. Cipher called out another taunt, but she got the unnerving sense he wasn't speaking to her. 

"That face though! You should see your face! 

She reached over the ledge and crept into the box too. Cipher seemed preoccupied as she felt for a weapon. Her fingers curled around the shape of a gun and she plucked it out. Blast shots whizzed over her head and Vestra ducked down with a grimace. Cipher wasn't so completely distracted after all. 

"And what do you think you're gonna do with that?" It was obvious Cipher's voice was directed at her. 

Vestra took in a breath and worked up her courage to rise from her hiding place. The weapon came with her and she aimed it at Cipher's chest. 

"I won't let you terrorize here too." Her face was unflinching. "You won't get in my way." 

Cipher stood, posture at ease, and glanced towards a spot off at the side. 

"Don't look so nervous. Of course she'll shoot you. Bleeding Heart will do anything for power." 

It only took a moment more for the gears to click in her brain. Cipher was talking to Stanford. 

She cringed, the realization putting her off, but she didn't move.

"What are you doing here Cipher? If you thought of coming to me for one last ounce of co-operation, then you'll find you were miserably wrong." 

Cipher's expression turned into a sneer. 

" _Work_ with you? Bleeding Heart - I'm not here to _work_ with you." He raised his hand, the gun pointed in her direction once again.

A thump formed in Vestra's throat and she shivered, but not from any threat of the gun. 

"What - ?" She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing he wouldn't fire it just yet. Knowing that he'd wait out her confusion. That he'd relish it with a warped form of delight. She grew angry and glared at him. "You're here for more _revenge?_ " 

Vestra jumped at the sound of the gun going off, but didn't bother turning to look at the scorch mark on the wall. She scowled at Cipher's self-satisfied smile. It filled her with a bitter resentment. 

"Haven't you done enough? Is't the death of _billions_ enough for you?" 

Cipher shrugged.

"What do you care? In the end, you still got exactly what you wanted. Sole leader over everything. Everyone's trust, respect, and adoration. Ha! You even twisted yourself out of our deal! You're a slippery one! I almost admire the sheer amount of deceit you've pulled off." He put a hand over his chest and gave her a mock smile of pride. "They grow up so fast." 

She stiffened, seething at Bill's ridicule. 

"How dare you insinuate - ! You know perfectly well I only set out to help people!"

"Help - ? Ha! You've even got yourself fooled! You think you're such a 'bleeding heart'? Face it! You've only ever liked the idea of _power_. Never mind how many people you can "help" with it." His grin grew wider. "It almost reminds me of ... well - ME! HAHAHAHA!"

Vestra's fingers tightened around her weapon. She needed to shoot. Not listen to Cipher's insults. She hated how naive she'd been, listening to his promises of creating a better world. His promise to help her rise through the ranks and becoming the greatest leader the world had ever seen. It was all nothing more than a farce, and four decades later it still stung. 

She resolved her doubts, and leveled the gun. 

Sharp, bristling heat cut into her arm and Vestra dropped back with a scream. She leaned against the wall - her weapon on the ground, far from mind - and held her bubbling wound. Pained tears pricked her eyes. She stared at Cipher with an expression of fury and a trembling lip. He stood, smiling back at her, the blaster, still hot, spinning at ease on his finger.

"To answer your first question. I'm in a bad mood." 

She tried rising, a wince escaping her lips. Cipher made his way around the obtrusive desk, moving to stand in front of her with his gloating grin. The glint in his eye - showing his satisfaction to watch her glare at him in pain - it contorted Stanford's face. Brought the devilish nature to a form usually so timid. 

He stepped forward and lashed out with a leg. It was easier to send him toppling over. The demon's precarious balance fell and Vestra scrambled away. She got to her feet and ran around the desk, heading for the door. A hand caught her ankle. Her knees bent, and she stretched out her hands to catch the fall. With a shout, she curled in on herself, arm still in pain. 

It grew worse as six fingers clamped down on it and yanked her up. She screamed, unaccustomed to the spasm it sent across her nerves. All she could think of was the way her flesh felt as if it was being ripped away from bone - before she heard a click and the pressure vanished. Her misty eyes - pricked with pain filled tears - cleared. Bill stood in front of her looking cross. 

"Excuse you, but I'm trying to talk here." 

Vestra frowned, her eyes catching sight of her handcuffed wrist to a light fixture on the wall. Bill went on. 

"Where was I? Oh, right - ," Bill paused, his eyes moving from Vestra to growing unfocused. He raised a hand, the gun still somehow right there, and fired off a shot.

Vestra jerked away, keeping from the spot sizzling on the wall right next to her. Bill cackled, holding a hand to his head as his shoulder's shook with laughter. He caught  Vestra's eyes and doubled over, laughing even harder. 

"You two. It's too much. HAHA! It's such a stress reliever, harassing the two of you. This is great!"

Vestra glared at him through narrowed eyes. She took the moment to tug at her restraint. She hadn't inspected the cuffs much yet. If she could get free while he seemed distracted - 

Cipher shot at her again. Blasts dug into the wall, inches from Vestra's cringing figure. As she leaned farther and farther away from the growing heat, Cipher aimed nearer, narrowly missing as he taunted her side, the heat digging through her clothes and into her skin, Cipher continuing to cackle. 

Just as Vestra questioned how she'd get out of this mess. Just when she began to wonder if it really was the end. When after decades of besting the triangle, she had finally reached the end of her rope - 

The door clicked open and the two of them turned to look. 

Stanley stepped in. 

Bill froze. The yellow eyes widening to show surprise and fear. Stanley stared back, his face turning from slight shock to stern reproach as he took in Stanford's body and the eyes. 

"Hey!" 

Bill scrambled to flee and Stan jerked, following his movements. Cipher made it towards the edge of the desk before Stan caught his wrists and tugged him back. 

"What did I say? You're supposed to stay away from Ford!" 

Bill struggled against the grip, before pausing. Out of nowhere he whipped around, shoving a fist into Stan's face, making him tumble back and fall on his rear. Bill stepped away and Stan shook his head before looking up. The two stared at each other in disbelief, their surprise coloring the moment. Then slowly Cipher's lips began to curve, a deranged smile building across his lips. 

Stanley thrust himself from off the ground and Cipher's smile fell and he retreated further. Stanley went to step forward again and Cipher lifted his hand. The warm metal of a blaster stood between them. Stan stopped cold, and Cipher eyed the weapon almost surprised by his own action. Stan narrowed his eye.

"Don't do anything you're gonna regret later Cipher." 

Bill's eyes jumped to Stan, still open in wild shock. Understanding seemed to well there and Cipher's smile returned. 

"You know, I think I have everything I need from you now - ," his eyes flickered to a spot next to him in the room, then back to Stanley. "Don't I? Meaning ... I don't really have much reason to play fair anymore."

Stan frowned. He furrowed his brows and took a step forward, gripping the barrel of the weapon in a hand as he forced its aim out of the way. 

"What are you going on about - ?" 

A fist popped him in the nose and Stan tumbled back. He held his face and squinted to yell at Cipher, but before either could act another fist bunched in his shirt. He was yanked forward and his head rammed into the skull of his brother's. Stanley crumpled to the ground. 

Vestra stared. The demon swayed on his feet before balancing out. After a few blinks the yellow eyes fell down to the twin, a wide smile cut through his face. A wound split at the top of his head and blood pooled before trickling down his cheek to his chin. It ran past his grin and added to the disturbing image. Vestra jerked on her cuff. 

"Cipher! What do you think you're doing?"

Bill chuckled, hardly flickering his eyes her way before turning his attention back on Stan. The crumpled form was stirring, slowly crawling to its knees with a moan. Cipher's smile paused, and he blinked, before grinning even wider and staring at another spot in the air. 

Stanley shook his head and pushed himself to his feet, his disorientation obvious. It only took a moment for Cipher to thrust a foot into his back, shoving Stan down again. He laughed, expression brimming with satisfaction. Stanley squeezed his eye shut, then tossed it open as he glared at Cipher's legs. He lashed out and caught them, making Bill tumble to the ground with a cry of surprise. 

Vestra watched with baited breath as Stan held Cipher by the shoulder, his fist pulling back for a blow. Cipher glared up at him, when an image of uncertainty crossed Stan's face. In a moment, the vision of yellow eyes and black slits gave way to the recognition of a familiar face. 

Vestra cringed, shouting out, " _Don't hesitate_!" even as Cipher threw another fist of his own, knocking Stanley off. The two grappled, ignoring the senator entirely as they tumbled across the floor - skirting the few chairs strewn across the room. Vestra ripped her gaze away to focus on her restraint. She still couldn't get it open, but that was all she could think to do to stop the chaos unfolding. 

Stanley clocked Cipher and he fell away with a laugh. Pulling himself to his feet, the demon wiped a smear of blood from his lip. Glancing down he latching his gaze back on Stanley, laughing all the harder. 

Stan pulled himself up too, breathing heavy, and a dark look planted across his features. He glared. "Back off Cipher." 

Bill's smile turned into a sneer. 

Stanley stepped back when Cipher shot out a fist. He dodge, coming back with his own, but it was half-hearted. It only took another minute in a tussle for Cipher to slam Stan against the opposite wall. Stanley gritted his teeth and tried to pull away.

Cipher grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head against metal. He laughed, before doing it again. He slammed Stanley's skull back, again, and again, and again. Stan's eyes went unfocused. Blood welled around the back of his hair and stained the wall. It slid down the metal like dark rust as Cipher kept banging.

Letting go,  Cipher tossed Stan to the floor, movements carefree and easy. He stared at the weakened form as it tumbled to the ground. Vestra watched, at a loss for what to do. Expression turning resolute, she shouted at the demon.

"Cipher - !" 

Yellow eyes jumped to catch her gaze. She froze, struck dumb by the intensity. With a more serious expression than she had ever seen from the triangle, he lifted a finger, gesturing like a child, to stay quiet. Then his face erupted back into its grin and Cipher stared at the air once again. She stood still, frozen as he seemed to listen to something. 

Like lightning across her mind Vestra remembered Stanford. His presence was felt as Cipher stepped over to Stanley, his gaze still fixed on some unseen being. With an almost smug grin he gripped Stan's matted hair and pulled up his head. Stan let out a groan, following the movement to keep from hurting himself further. Cipher simply stared, his attention seemingly more taken by whatever Ford was doing than the half-unconscious man between his fingers. 

Cipher let his head drop, and Stan fell with a grunt. 

Then he did something Vestra couldn't fully understand. He stepped over to her radiator. 

Taking a moment to put a hand in front of the heating device, he tapped it before snatching the hand back. With a laugh he glanced around the room, before holding an open palm on the burning surface. Vestra cringed, looking away from the demon's self-destructive habits. She almost didn't catch Cipher going to the control dial and twisting the heat to its maximum before sauntering back.

A nervous pressure built in her chest. She focused on the lock, but that didn't stop her fingers from fumbling as her mind strayed back to what Cipher was doing. The demon was back at Stanley's side, a sneer the most obvious feature as his lip curled. He stood there, before he broke into a shoulder rocking laugh. 

"What do you _think_?" 

She knew the question wasn't directed at her, and Vestra gave up trying to unlock her cuff, yanking at it instead. 

It dug into her wrist and jolted her injury, but if she could simply break the shackle, or even pull the lamp fixture out of the wall. It kept her from thinking about the demon. Where'd she'd failed. What he planned to do next. How unstable Stanford's mind and emotions must have been growing by simply being aware of his possession. Of the many times she herself had been taken by the demon's flattery and tricks before that team of scientists, that _Cipher_ had made possible for her to obtain, - all of them now long, long dead - warned her what is was that machine she'd been feeding them instructions for  _really_ did. 

Bill shoved his foot over the back of Stan's neck, putting him in an uncomfortable position. Even when Vestra had assumed he'd black out, Stanley growled under the feeling and tried pushing out from under it. Far from being annoyed, Cipher looked pleased. 

Vestra shook her head, almost unaware of the action in her dread. Never had she been so relieved, and yet almost shocked and surely horrified to blend so silently into the wall. To be so thoroughly ignored. Especially by Cipher. 

The triangle cast his eyes between Stan and the radiator. At this point Cipher's intent far too obvious and he scratched at his hair, the tips of Stanford's fingers red with blood. Vestra jerked on the restraint, angry at her helpless position. She tugged over and over while Cipher reached down and did the same to Stan's arm. 

Stanley somehow lifted a weak hand and swatted him away. 

"Bugger off, you isosceles jerk," he muttered with what little coherency he had left in him. 

Cipher paused. He let out a small laugh. Barely a giggle before he stifled it. Then another. It came in short, small gasps be he broke into hysterical laughter, his sides splitting, even as he stared down at Stanley with a demented look in his eyes. It went on, the sound even more disconcerting than usual before it lessened, then stopped almost as soon as it came. The yellow orbs stared down like a spot light, the face an impassive smile. 

It twisted. 

" _Sure thing Fishbrains_."

In a single movement Cipher had Stan by the hair, tugging him up, pulling him over. He responded in a muffled, "Ack - ! Would you - !" before a following with a shout and a pained expression. Cipher's face was one of bitter rage. He all but thrust Stan into the radiator, shoving him into the burning heater, not bothering to even care at what angle they collided.

Stanley shouted. 

Vestra jerked at the noise, turning to see the man fighting with impossible strength to stay away. Cipher began a tug of war, struggling to keep his hold. He was furious. It was only after a few annoying moments of thrashing that Cipher forced Stan's head to take a sharp slam into the floor. Blood gushed from his nose, but it didn't stop Stanley from pulling away. 

Cipher huffed in frustration before gripping the front of Stan's shirt and shoving it into the heat. There were screams. Cipher's face eased, turning into delight. His sense of achievement soared as he let go to leave a hysterical wreck huddled on the floor. Vestra's voice floated through his ears.

"Cut it out Cipher! Haven't you done enough!" 

His enjoyment melted a moment as his eyes rolled to spot Vestra over his shoulder. He narrowed his eyes. Not speaking a word, he made Vestra stiffen at the warning gaze.

His sight flickered to Ford. For a moment his spirits lifted to see the man in the state he was. But as his eyes traveled back to Stanley his mood changed once again. Not even Six Fingers could interrupt this for him. 

He snatched Stan's shoulder with a rough hand, the man bracing to twist away, and dug him into the heat with as much force as Six Finger's meatsack could muster. There was more screaming and Bill's face broke into another vindicated grin. 

He felt the man struggle beneath his six fingers, relishing the weakening power beneath the attempt. Cipher let go and Stanley dropped, trembling. Bits of clothing were becoming frayed. It only be a matter of time before they cindered and broke into bare skin. 

Cipher caught the single eye, staring at him, disorientated. Latching on to his yellow gaze and trying to make sense of what his eye was telling him. Cipher felt thick and heavy glee welling across his parting lips, teeth showing in his triumph. He leaned down, relishing the shiver across Stanley's spine as his gaze dropped to Cipher's six fingered hands. 

He called out with Stanford's nickname, his aim to create as much bewilderment as possible to the man he hated most.

"Lee ... ," he began, eyes lighting up at the way Stan stiffened, and even noticing Stanford's reaction. The next words came easy - " _Hold still_." - he rammed him back into the heater. Cipher laughed at the way the man's shouts sounded more like a strangled howl. It fit right in with the powerful waves of anger and resentment that flowed through him. It indulged the strong loathing that wouldn't stop pricking at the edge of his mind and ruining his mood. 

When he let go, Stan fell to the ground with clenched fists. He shook his head, fighting against words battling across his tongue. At last he couldn't help from muttering a shaky plea. 

" ... _p-p-please_ ... ,"

Cipher paused. He stared down at Stanley Pines. A man just as plain and unassuming as any he'd ever met. And yet had somehow managed to crack through to _BILL CIPHER'S_ mindscape by sheer _willpower_. A feat so fantastical that Cipher himself hadn't even realized it was possible. An action Cipher committed everyday (and yet had never realized just how intimate - _how **violating** it truly felt_ \- ).

Cipher's eyes gave a dangerous gleam. 

"You of all people should know I'm not that nice." 

He shoved Stanley back in the radiator, fairly certain he heard the sound of fabric finally ripping away, but it was covered in the clamor of more screams. This time he was given almost no resistance at all. Simply the pain filled yells and the well maintained tears, misting the almost sightless eyes from so much torment. Bill watched and listened in utter satisfaction. 

***

_There - Stanley_

More laughter and tricks. The smug callousness of the demon set his teeth on edge. He didn't know how much more he could take. He couldn't stand the approach of yellow and barely repressed a shiver at the easy swirl of Bill's cane.

"Okay, okay. I've got another one for you Fishbrains,"

Stan shook his head.

Enough was enough. Wasn't he tired of playing these mind games?

Apparently not.

"This one's a real kicker - you'll like it,"

It would be another memory of Ford. Or another illusion made to mimic reality. Or simply some horror show. Cipher couldn't get at Stan's memories. Not without a deal. If Stan had anything to be grateful for, it was that.

The world turned gray as Bill pulled them into the threshold of the mindscape. It was the best place he could manipulate reality. Even with the power of his nightmare realm, Bill Cipher still preferred the imagination that the space between waking could provide.

The image of Ford's home appeared. His house in the woods. Stan found himself inside, and he stared as another tell-tale memory played out.

"Isn't that why you're so relieved right now?" Ford's voice, but not Ford's voice.

Stan could see the yellow of his possessed eyes. He could see Stanford too. Floating. It was a memory from Bill's perspective. He could see his brother's eyes widened.

"No, I - !"

"Come on, Six Fingers. You can't hide anything from me. I know how much you like our little chats. I enjoy them too, you know. Why do you think I keep coming back? Old habits die hard and I've grown fond of just how much you - ,"

"Stop it! That's not true! I hate you! I hate you Bill! You betrayed me and I hate you!" Stan saw Ford put his head in his hands. "I hate you! I hate everything you've done! Everything you stand for! I hate that - that I - I just _hate you_. I hate you and don't you ever think you know otherwise - because you don't! You're _wrong_. _I hate you_ ,"

Stan clenched his fist as Ford let out another broken -

" _I hate you_ ,"

Bill Cipher - the real one - floated in his triangle figure above him. Stan stared at him, eyes defiant. Bill looked down at him and laughed. Stan turned back to the memory. It always went like this. Ford looked so lost. So haggard and empty. He hated seeing his brother like that. All alone and under attack.

He hated that this had _happened_. It had happened and Stan wasn't _there_. He wasn't with Ford. He didn't _help_.

The feeling in the pit of his gut was indescribable. A churning mass of guilt that only grew worse and worse with each new memory.

"You should know by now how unpleasant things get when you try to play hero,"

"B-bill. Wh-what are you doing?"

He wasn't there! Stan wasn't there! He was away! Gone! On his own because he couldn't keep from screwing up! Whatever came next, he was desperate to keep it from playing out. But that wouldn't help. Because it had already happened. All of this had _already_ happened and Stan was helpless. Useless. Such a pathetic _moron_! Why? Why had he let this happen!

"I'm not making you do anything! I'm - ,"

"Hahahaha! Look Six Fingers! I burned you! Hahaha!"

Burned. Searing flesh. The heat, the fire, the blaze. Stan tried to focus away from what was going on. The tune it all out. Try to not think about it. It was hard. Even harder when Stan's eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen. What had _already happened_.

"BILL WHAT DID YOU DO!"

Just as Ford's possessed body looked unsteady on it's feet, Stan stumbled back, stunned.

No. No, that never happened. That can't have happened. Nothing like that should _ever_ have happened!

"What's the matter Sixer? I thought you wanted your body back?"

"No please. I'm - I'm _begging_ you,"

This didn't happen.

"Please. _Please_ ,"

It didn't. It _didn't_.

All he could hear was Bill's laugh. The one from the memory cackling in glee, right alongside the demonic triangle floating above his head. The sick, perverted laugh that followed with the horrors of what Stan was seeing.

"Here you go Six Fingers. It's all yours,"

He'd heard Ford scream before. He'd heard loud shouts tear out of his brother's throat. More pain laced ones. Shouts that had less to do with physical hurt and more to do with an aching heart. Ones of anger, of annoyance, frustration, fear. Stanley ... he'd heard his brother yell.

But this felt different. Stan didn't know why, but it _felt different_. It made him tremble as his legs turned weak. It made him remember something else, even as a memory played out in front of him.

Heat. The pain of a searing burn.

Stan felt so stupid. So broken. He felt cold. His body shook as he listened to his brother scream. He dragged a hand through his hair, unsure about it all.

How could he have let this happen? _He'd_ caused this. He should've _been_ there.

Stan closed his eyes. He could only listen as he remembered darkness surrounding him during his own ordeal. His brother's six fingers holding him down. The same brother whose screams engulfed Stan's entire perception.

This was killing him. Standing there. Witnessing these events play out. 

The screams faded. They trickled down to soft whimpers. Stan should have realized it wouldn't last forever, but he felt tense, prepared for an eternity of them.

Ford started to cry. Broken sobs as he laid on the floor. Stan wanted to comfort him. He was desperate to sit by his brother's side and offer him any small amount of relief. But it already happened. And _Stan wasn't there_.

Stan wasn't anywhere.

It hit him hard. Harder than anything else yet. The realization that Ford was on his own _right now_. That he could be hurt. Struggling all alone. And _Stan wasn't there_. He wasn't with him to help. All these things had already happened. He couldn't change them. He'd failed his brother. He was _failing_ Ford while he just stood there. He could keep it from happening again. He could make sure his brother never had to go through anything like this alone. Not ever again. And he was _failing_.

It was too much.

His feelings of guilt and shame twisted in his gut. Stan turned, bent over, and retched. He didn't have much in his stomach, but it was enough to make a putrid yellow slip from his mouth. He heaved, his disorientation growing as the mindscape almost _heightened_ his regret and the 'physical' reaction it produced.

As for the memory of Ford ...

It faded away, turning into another one. A brighter day. The same house. Ford sitting at his table.

Stan's perception teetered with the shift and more bile rose in his throat as his balance grew dizzy.

Ford was smiling. Sitting at his table. A journal in his hands as he scratched something down.

It was wrong. It felt so wrong. To see Ford happy. To see him okay. When only seconds ago he was crying on the floor, hurt and alone.

Stan closed his eyes and breathed in. His stomach settled and he straightened.

It must have been a dream. Cipher floated into the room. A memory of Cipher. A yellow triangle with a friendly eye and a cheerful tone.

"Hiya Fordsy!"

Ford looked up at the demon and smiled in greeting.

"Hello Bill,"

Stan chest constricted. Ford didn't know. He had no idea what was going to happen. He was so blind to the future. Stan's head spun. Seeing Ford like this. Before things went wrong. Before everything spiraled so out of control.

It was his brother before the world turned on him. Before he learned how terrible things could get. Before Bill tore into him. Before the cave. His brother before the nightmares, and the monsters, and whatever was happening to Ford right now without _Stanley_ - 

Stanford ...

"You're doing brilliant work on that portal! You'll have it finished in no time!"

Ford ducked his head, embarrassed.

"Thanks Bill,"

Bill.

Bill Cipher.

Everything in Stan curled.

**Bill Cipher was going to wish he never met either Pines Twin.**

A taunting voice sounded by his ear.

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it, eh Fishbrains?"

Stan whirled. Anger built between the pain. He trembled with hate. His eyes burned with an intensity to match the flames in his aching chest. Stanley may have not been there to help, but it was  _Bill Cipher_ that had done all this. 

The memories faded. It was just Cipher and Stan. Together in the black void of the mindscape. The yellow triangle floated, arm behind his head as he watched, passive and amused by Stan's burst of feeling. He twirled his cane, the simple motion showing just how little the demon cared.

Stan was going to _end him_.

Cipher laughed.

"Oh, really! _How_?"

Stan - he didn't know. He didn't know. He didn't know!

But he would. He'd be the end of Cipher. One way or another, Bill was going to pay.

Bill laughed. He laughed and laughed. Stan's blood boiled. Physical steam rose off his shoulders. If there was anywhere that looks could kill, he'd take his chances in the mindscape.

Bill rolled his eye.

"Don't strain yourself too hard Fishbrains. You'll pull a muscle,"

Something shook. Bill looked up. Stan focused on the yellow demon. His hands were shaking. He focused the waves of rolling hate towards Bill Cipher, as if somehow he could manifest something tangible.

"You idiot, you're breaking your head. Cut it out,"

Stan's right eye twitched. He took an unconscious step forward, as if somehow he could get his hands around a throat that wasn't there. Dig into the simple shape. Punch it, kicking it, _anything_. The ground splintered.

Bill stopped waving his cane and stared. His eyes narrowed and he floated close.

"Alright. Enough 's enough," He pointed a gun shaped hand and fired.

The blast of energy zoomed straight for Stan's chest before bouncing off.

" _What_?" Bill floated in, eye red. "Alright, _listen here_. That won't hurt you! Your sigil can't protect you from that!"

Stan took another step forward and white breaks cracked into the black. He didn't know what he was doing exactly, but he realized he didn't need to. He was in control. His own thoughts were guiding his surroundings. He could do whatever he wanted.

And right then, he wanted Cipher dead.

"You think you can just kill me! I'm a being of pure energy! You can't get rid of energy you fish-brained moron!"

Everything erupted. The dense dam of outrage flooding his chest broke free and exploded into their surroundings. It flowed and flowed, eking into every crevice of his mind. It burst through the walls and slipped beyond. It was real, and it was powerful. A force of pure animosity that burned red like magma spewing from a volcano. He couldn't stop it now, even if he'd wanted to.

And he _really_ didn't want to. 

In a moment it tore past barriers he should never have known existed. He was whipped away, across miles and miles of memories. Stanley was mad, yes, but a feeling of panic spiked in him as he realized he was losing control. Images of his hopes and fears. He saw a beach, decorated with a swing set, the StanleyMobile parked nearby. He flew, even past that, and landed somewhere else entirely.

Yet even still, his instinct was to lash out, furry urging him on. He didn't even know what he was fighting anymore, but the strain of his anger ripping past delicate pieces of mindscape made Stan feel satisfied to break something of _Bill_ for once.

And then everything froze with a sharp prick to his chest. His heart. His soul. Or whatever he was made out of. His very being maybe.

The world shifted.

Stan was dragged down and away and suddenly whatever control he had left, vanished. Now his anger was in charge of _him_. He was swept to the deepest, darkest reaches of somewhere he couldn't quite describe. 

It was ... yellow.

Something shocked Stan's system. He connected - with what he wasn't sure. Images surged over him. Thoughts. Visions. Memories. Dozens. Hundreds. Thousands. MILLIONS. BILLIONS. _TRILLIONS_. They wouldn't stop. none of it would stop. Every moment of the universe filling his mind all at once. Bill gagged as the memories forced their way down his throat, through his ears, spilt past his eye. His senses were overwhelmed. He couldn't feel. He couldn't breath.

He started to scream.

Bill Cipher started to scream.

"HAHA!HAHHAHAH!AHAHHAHA!HAHAHHAH!AHAHAH!"

Below him Stanley Pines trembled onto his hands and knees. He glanced up at Cipher, right eye leaking blood.

"Stop laughing," The words came choked out in barely a whisper.

"HAHAHA!HAHHAHAH!AHAHAHAHAHAH!"

Cipher couldn't stop screaming. He couldn't stop.

"You think this is a joke?"

"HAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

He needed help. Cipher needed help. He couldn't stop screaming. Why? Why couldn't he stop?

Stanley squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed with new sensation. Disorientation. The harsh cackle grating his ears. A deathly feeling of hopelessness washed over him. So bizarrely new, yet familiar. He couldn't take it. It was too much. It was all too much.

"STOP LAUGHING!"


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter Chapter. I obviously have no understanding of moderation.
> 
> Pfft. Heck if I know what's going on.

_ Now _

In all her dealings with Bill Cipher, she'd never seen him do something, quite, like this. 

There was nothing to do, nothing to be said. Vestra leaned against her scorched wall, unwilling to stand for so long. It was obvious the cuff wasn't coming off. Her office was far too quiet. The silence felt eerie. 

What seemed a millenia later, the door opened. A single glance had the visitor sending for reinforcements. A swarm of guards flooded the room, and it didn't take long to be unlocked from her cuff. Medical was called. When they left, Vestra found herself alone with a confused group of personnel - all looking to her for guidance. In the sudden onslaught of pressure, she took a moment to close her eyes and breathe. Hand slipping into her pocket, the pendant pressed into the palm of her hand before she looked up, back straight and ready to take control. 

"Stanford Pines is wandering the halls. He needs to be found and contained. Activate code Yellow. This is not a drill. Be on high alert. Take all precautions. Go." 

Everyone stiffened. They shared uneasy glances, but at her command they nodded and left the room. She was left with a single pair of guards, taking her side as was procedure in code Yellow. They would soon be replaced with another pair, equipped with paralysis guns and (another) pair of cuffs in case Vestra herself was possessed by Cipher. 

She shivered at the thought, memories of recent events and more past ones playing through her mind. But with a shake of her head she left her room. She had pressing business to attend to. The latest developments shifted up her time table. She had a portal cube to activate.

***

After everything, to be left standing - without warning, not even a word - back in his body, back in the physical realm, alone in the hall, was probably one of the most underwhelming experiences he'd ever encountered. To be floating one minute, then weighed down the next. 

It did nothing to change the way he felt. 

Wholly and utterly adrift. He stood, silent and still, staring at a blank wall as the seconds ticked by. He could hear his heart's steady beat in his ears, and the sound felt like a count down to when he'd implode. Ford hadn't been able to act. To do anything. To stop what was happening. He'd simply watched while something inside him chipped away as minute by minute went by. At first he'd ripped at his hair and grated down on his teeth, his breathing becoming hysterical, but even that slowed till there was nothing. He could barely remember more, shiver's clawing down his spine as he refused to even think about -

Now, standing back in a physical form. Able to do more than simply exist. He could feel a sense of recoil building inside him. The sounding thump of a drum echoed in his head as he stared and stared and stared, a spring tensing around his mind. 

It pulsed - _beat. Beat. BEAT._  

He turned and took his first step down the hall, knowing where he wanted to go first. 

*** 

They were heading to the same place. Vestra spotted Stanford at the same time the guards did. She caught a moment of panic light in his eyes and felt a sting of pity for the man. Stepping forward she was quick to caution the approaching guards, each ready to follow up her previous orders. She stood in front of him, the door to the lab right over his shoulder. 

"Stanford." She held out her hand in a calming gesture. His face looked so tired - no,  _exhausted_. But it was devoid of the stretched pupils and manic smile that had twisted his face. Now all she could see was a man who needed her help. Her friend that had so brilliantly labored over their project all these months. Stubborn as he'd been in the past, she knew if she simply went about this the right way he'd be easy to handle. Then the whole mess would fit back together, she'd get what she wanted, and everything would be alright. 

Stanford stood, still and silent as his eyes jumped from person to person. It gave an impression akin to frightened prey, and Vestra, not immune to sympathy, tried to put on a soothing smile. 

"I know you're confused and probably worried about your brother - ," 

His eyes jerked to at the mention of Stanley and Vestra was quick to nod in reply. 

"Right? He's in the medic bay. You know where that is, don't you?" She watched as the small piece of recognition clicked, but as he stayed unmoving Vestra went on. "You can see him if you like." Around her she could feel the other's confusion at the strange breach in protocol, but this was a special situation that needed to be handled with care. That was, until she saw the idea working its way in Stanford's head and she quickly offered him another option as his panic seemed to returned. "Or you can come inside the lab with me. Right there. Behind you?" 

  
His eyes did no more than flicker over his shoulder before latching back onto her. She batted her lashes, straining to keep a comforting smile on her lips. No one else was speaking, and while she was used to being the center of attention, the silence between her words felt strained. She waited for a nod, a gesture, some sign of Stanford's decision. 

She mentally praised herself. She'd given him two excellent choices that were meant to put him at ease. Given him a simple way to re-establishing control. Something she was sure had been far lacking with recent events. And once he decided, she'd be able to soothe whatever ruffled feathers Cipher had created and bring all of her plans back on track. 

Vestra took a step forward, arms dropping to her side as she stated, in as kind a voice as she could muster, "So what would you prefer - ?" 

Pain exploded across her nose and Vestra tumbled to the ground. Millions of stars filled her vision as her head bouncing on the cold tile.

For a moment there was nothing but a high ringing noise, followed by a low fog that seemed to wedge itself deep between her ears. She struggled to look up and saw a blurry group wrestling in front of her. There were several shouts and Vestra winced, her head complaining in response. A comforting palm rested against her arm. Somewhere she was aware of being asked a question. 

"Are you okay? Senator? Can you hear me?"

But besides that, all she could manage to think was how disappointed she felt for not having six fingers against her arm instead of five. And somewhere even deeper - somewhere she would wholeheartedly push out of her mind when she came to her senses - she was dismayed to know that those five fingers would ultimately not be attached to two yellow glowing eyes and an old voice that had been the only thing yet to leave her. Whether that meant good or bad, the thought brought the sting of tears, and it was _that feeling_ that jolted her into a world of comprehension. 

She sat up quickly, and staved off a wave of dizziness that lasted much too long, before noticing the four men pinning Stanford against the opposite wall. She shook herself, trying to clear it of confusion, trying to come to terms with what she was seeing. Blinking up, she could see in plane view, Stanford struggling to twist out of the many guards' grip. A hand lowered in front of her face and she followed it to see a concerned expression. Realizing the outstretched offer, Vestra placed her palm in a woman's, who looked rather worried, and was promptly pulled to her feet. 

Another wave of dizziness came, but it only drew attention to her lack of understanding. A voice tried to ask her more questions, but Vestra could only stare in a daze. It wasn't until she noticed her eyes following that she realized Stanford was being pulled down the hall. 

He glared at her, still trying to tug himself free. At the weight of his expression a shiver ran down her back. Even when his mentality was more unstable than not, he'd always seemed more fragile and frightened than dangerous. Leading her to assume that Stanford Pines wasn't even capable of such outright aggression. Especially without provocation or cause of defense. But now? There was a fierceness and determination that she'd never seen on that face, coupled with a dark look of murder. 

The group rounded the corner and was gone, leaving Vestra to feel weak and bewildered. She felt something tickle over her face and brought up a hand. Looking down her fingers revealed sticky red blood streaming from her nose.

Seconds later - no, it must have been longer as she was caught in her thoughts - a few medical personnel came. They helped clean her face. A sharp bark of pain, not hers, caught her attention, and her eyes roamed. She hadn't noticed the man sitting against the wall, holding his arm in a ginger attempt to keep it still. That guard was being attended by a medic and nodded his head at something said. Next to her another one was trying to get her attention and she focused on that.

" _Senator_." She turned and the medic relaxed. They took a hand from her shoulder, Vestra having completely missed the gesture. "I think you have a concussion. You need to relax for a while."

Vestra furrowed her brows, but as the words sunk in she took a step back. 

"I can't. Not now. I have work to do."  

The medic's expression seemed sympathetic, but their words were entreating. 

"You've had a long day. Someone else can take care of things. Delegate. You shouldn't exert yourself right now. Instead try and heal." 

Vestra pursed her lips in a frown. 

"Thank you for your opinion and your help - ," She turned and faced the lab entrance. "But this needs to be taken care of. Before anything else can interrupt." 

The medic opened their mouth to argue but Vestra had already stepped over and scanned her card. She swayed a moment, but straightened, waving off offers of help. She needed to move, and quick. Casting a last look over her shoulder, she stepped inside - hardly caring to note the pair of guards that followed. 

"Hey!" A voice carried over from the left, and a wide eyed Rosie stepped into Vestra's view. Her lips were pursed in a tight line, and her purple skin seemed pale. "Get out of here. You can't do this."

Vestra rolled her eyes, then winced, taking in a deep breath to clear her head of the sudden ache. She looked around and spotted Isaac.

"Could you take your charge elsewhere? I hardly think its appropriate to allow it in such a delicate area." 

Isaac glanced up, brows furrowed in uncertainty. 

"Well, I don't really think it's all that harmful. As I've stated many times before, Rosie is rather mature for her age - ," 

"Yes, yes." Vestra pinched the bridge of her nose. "Just get her out of here. And where is Marlia? I want to activate the Tesseract _now_." She stressed the last word, impatience creeping into her voice.

"You can't!" Rosie stomped over, bottom lip trembling. "You don't know what you're doing. You have no idea what'll happen - !" 

"What _has_ happened!" Vestra snapped. She glared at the child, disdain clear. " _You_ have no idea what _has_ happened - ," She paused, an idea emerging in her mind. She straightened, face becoming somber and resolute. "Code yellow," she glanced at Isaac to see him stiffen, "has been activated." She glanced back at Rosie with a condescending glare. "You need to leave." 

Tears glistened in the girl's eyes, and she swallowed hard, lowering her head as she fought back tears. Vestra stared, confused by the strength of her reaction. It was pushed aside by a stuttered angry tone. 

"I _know_ \- I ... I know, but _you_ \- , " 

" _Rosie_." 

Both women turned, surprised by the strictness in Isaac's voice. He frowned down at the girl. 

"For heaven's sake - tell me what's wrong. For once?" 

Rosie, chewed her bottom lip, tears welling in her eyes. They spilled down her cheeks. Isaac's face softened. He took a single step forward and it was enough to have Rosie running into his arms, sobbing into his chest. He petted her hair, face sympathetic. He murmured into her ear. 

"Sometimes I forget your just a kid, you know?" 

Vestra scrunched her nose, unwilling to be swayed by the display. She stepped past them, determined to ignore the nuisance that was the alien's presence.  She was stopped by the clear sound of Rosie's voice breaking through tears. 

"If you turn that device on, you'll ruin everything you've been working for."

Vestra stopped, anger and uncertainty flashing across her mind. 

"Are you saying I won't succeed? That the machine isn't ready?" 

There was a paused before Rosie responded in a disgusted voice. 

"No. It'll work. It'll work exactly like you wanted to. You'll get exactly what you imagined. But that's not what you should want! Everything good is already _here_!" 

Vestra let her nerves rest, the news a sudden comfort she hadn't known she'd needed. She didn't bother responding before she headed into the room where the Tesseract was kept. Those two guards followed her in, and a smug sense of satisfaction eked in when Rosie didn't bother chasing after her or arguing. 

Vestra glanced at the cube and realized with a light in her eyes how easy the scientists had converted the machine to activate since the last time she'd seen it go. She'd be able to do this herself. It was so close. All that chance. That opportunity. The _power_ - 

She cringed, remembering Cipher's words. But with a bitter resolve she shook it off. Soon she'd be able to help trillions of billions of people. Not just the few million under the dirt of her dead planet. From what she knew of the fourth dimension, she could even gain the ability to revive the billions that were viciously murdered in Cipher's tantrum streak of revenge. A simple manipulation of a time-stream or however that all worked, and Vestra would become like a goddess capable of resurrecting her mascaraed species. 

It was so close. 

One of the guards coughed, unsure of why she was standing, staring at, what looked to them, like a simple cube. Vestra broke out of her revere and a familiar weight in her pocket called itself to mind. Sticking her fingers inside Vestra dared remove the golden pendant. Its shine glinted against the room's artificial light - somehow looking like a single glittering piece of hope in the dismal atmosphere. It was a loathsome image, twisted by irony. Her eyes narrowed.

"Take this and destroy it. Immediately." She turned and stretched out her hand, dropping the necklace into one of the guard's.

Their eyes widened at the sight of a golden triangle, but didn't ask questions before giving a nod and leaving. Vestra watched it go, feeling as if it was a symbol of her change. Of letting go of her ties to Cipher and the beginning on her embarkment in becoming something more than that devil. Something even greater as she surpassed his abilities in the fourth dimension while he was stuck in what, she imagined to be, the second. 

She was certain that with Ford - as regrettable (and alarming) as the fact was - taken care of and contained, and she herself awake, yet also secured by her own precautions, that Cipher wouldn't be able to gain a hold on the portal she about to open. The last pieces were falling into place, and her own folly of keeping hold on that one last piece of nostalgia was countered by it's removal, showing her commitment to hold off the yellow triangle.  With undoubtedly the only avenues of Bill Cipher's entrance into her military base taken care of, nothing could stop what was sure to come next. 

She stood in front of the machine, it's simple shape a simmering cauldron of possibility that she meant to exploit. The satisfaction pulsed through her bones. 

Vestra turned on the Tesseract.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh. You know I'm starting to think Vestra has problems I never knew about. 
> 
> The things you learn about your OCs. Go figure.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last two chapters.

Ford yanked at the straps on his chair. He had a vague awareness of a voice telling him to calm down. His mind was too far in a haze to pay attention. He wasn't sure what he wanted anymore. Had no idea what he was doing. But his body wanted out of his restraints and to get his six finger's around someone's throat. He was just so angry. He never felt so wired. So electrified by his emotions. So out of control that his mind couldn't supply a rational set of thoughts. He just needed to lash out, and all the faces staring down around him weren't helping. 

He yanked again on a strap, glaring at the many pairs of eyes. 

A small booming sound echoed around the room. Out of some distinct instinct Ford equated it to something like breaking the sound barrier. But the physical instinct - his reaction - cause his eyes to jump across the room, looking for the source of the noise. Another boom burst into hearing. A low toned light-wave noise buzzed - and then things got weird. 

Gravity dropped. 

Everyone and everything floated into the air. Another boom and they were thrown against the wall. Ford slammed down, still in his chair, and snapped shut his eyes with the impact. It didn't take long for the feeling to lesson. They floated out again, and some of the guards in the room flailed for a grip. 

Another boom and they slammed against the walls. Another boom and pressure seemed to increase. Cracks emerged in ceiling and worked their way down. Ford pulled at his straps, the feeling of being trapped in the chaos making his breath hitch. Panic set in as he twisted, writhing to free himself. Again gravity lessened and someone opened the door to the hall. Whatever was happening seemed to be everywhere. The boom echoed and anyone who made it out was only thrown against another wall in the corridor. The infrastructure crumbled and Ford flinched away as dirt rained down on him, soon being followed by bigger, heavier rocks as the roof fell in. 

A last boom blasted through their ears, and Ford would've guessed the whole Base had collapsed. Gravity returned and Ford dropped to the broken floor while the ceiling caved on top of them. 

***

Possessing Stanley Pines was too easy. Bill Cipher would have thought the meathead would have put up a bigger fight. At least set some mental barriers. Maybe even be shrouded in an some emotional induced mist for all the human's poor little psyche could handle. Sure it wouldn't stop Bill Cipher, but it might've made things a little funner to smash his way in. 

But no. If anything the way was free and clear. Not open with a wide invitation, but not covered in firewalls or brick mortars, or anything - subconscious or otherwise. Bill floated down and landed in the innermost part of the his mindscape. There was nothing. Just the usual beach in late evening. Or was it morning? Cipher glanced around and spotted that stupid red car along the shore. A figure was sitting in the sand, leaning against it. 

Cipher grinned, ready to gloat in triumph. He straightened his tie and floated higher. Light burst around his edges, illuminating him in an impressive entrance. 

"Well, well, well, well, well. What do we have here?" He held his arms behind his back, waiting for the satisfying reply of defiance and anger. 

None came. 

Cipher glanced down, eye narrowing as the seconds ticked by. 

" _Well_?" He splayed his arms, demanding a response. 

There was only silence, and the memory of waves lapping the shore. Bill snapped his fingers, commanding attention. He got none, and his form turned a slight shade red. He waved his arms up and down shouting foul names down at Stan. 

A few minutes passed and the color seemed to fade from the demon, the yellow returning - along with a sullen expression. The man still didn't move. It seemed Stanley Pines was intent on ignoring him. Him. Bill Cipher.  _Ignore_ him? Bill groused at the thought. Then he recalled why he'd even bothered with his least favorite meatsack. Bill turned and floated away, casting a last frustrated glance over his shoulder. 

The triangle had bigger fish to fry. 

***

Ford blinked to see cloudy dust obscuring his vision. He closed his eyes, body sore and mind exhausted. He willed himself back to sleep, wishing to fall out of awareness. 

His eyes snapped open. They leaped around the room, wide-eyed at the hundreds of eyes staring back. They blinked.

Ford jerked up, knocking against something as he tripped. He glanced down and caught sight of the broken remnants of his restraints. He nodded to himself, pulling himself to is feet in a rush. He stood, and the world spun, his vision dizzy. When it straightened he stood in the middle of the room - broken and battered. A few people were laying under heavy rocks, no one conscious. Ford took in deep heavy breaths, his gaze stuck to the eyes stalking his every movement. He took a few slow steps towards the exit before he bolted. 

His shoulder smashed into the wall and he bounced off, not expecting it to be so close, before turning to run down the corridor. He tripped, slamming into the ground, chin bruising on the floor. He groaned, but the noise died in his throat. The eyes. They were still there. A few clustered in front of him, before sweeping across the ceiling and covering the walls, and the floor, filling his entire view. Ford pushed himself on to trembling arms, only to stare down in the gleaming gaze of a bulging eye. They were everywhere. 

His shoulders shook. He pushed himself to his feet, his breathing hitched, eyes unable to stop jumping from one to the next. He stumbled forward, in a sea of gazes, all of them staring, surrounding,  _taunting_ him. He threw himself forward, running, racing to get away. Slabs of rock had him picking his way through, but no matter where he went, nothing changed. He was still surrounded. Still drowning in an unending spiral of eyes. 

He tripped again and fell to his knees. He didn't get up. They were still there. Still invading his vision. Still staring at him in the thousands. He dropped his head into his arms, eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught.

In the hall, someone turned the corner, picking their way across the broken floor. They stopped when they caught sight of Ford. They called out, stretching forward a hand. Nothing. There wasn't a response. They wondered if he was alright, but he was alive. His chest was rising and falling in rapid breaths. It was only a matter of making their own presence known. The person came forward, placing a hand on the man's shoulder - 

Six fingers snatched onto their sleeve, and wide eyes stared up into theirs. A moment passed before the fearful expression turned into an alarming anger. Before they could do anything their head was slammed into the floor, and an elbow jammed into their throat. They lashed out, struggling for breath. A way out of the deadly grip. Their vision grew hazy, they couldn't think - couldn't breathe. 

A minute passed. Ford took in a few deep breaths, his head throbbing. A slight red pulsed around his vision, and he stood to his feet with clenched teeth. He stepped over a body, moving through the sea of eyes, unsure where to go or what to do. 

Dirt sprayed down on his head and Ford shook it out of his hair before looking up. A glowing blue spot shone out of the darkness. 

It smashed into him, slithering out of the roof and bashing him against the wall. A hiss echoed in his ear and he blinked up to stare into eight gleaming sapphire eyes. Something set his arm ablaze and he whipped his head to see a scaled rope biting into his skin. He gritted his teeth, struggling to be let go. A sharp set of teeth leveled to his gaze and a massive jaw opened to show a salivating tongue slither from it's mouth. The forked appendage licked his face and Ford jerked away, heart speeding up. He slid his gaze back, looking the creature square on, chest rising with a steady drum of breath. Eight eyes caught his. 

A pointed tail lanced toward his face, whipping itself straight before curving in an arc to puncturing his brain. Ford could only stare at the eyes. Watching him. Gleaming while they mocked. 

Blood burst into the open. There was a scream of pain. The creature yanked itself separate from Ford and the man dropped back to the ground as the creature stepped back. 

Ford's vision narrowed to a small focus. He looked down, into his hand, and saw another eye. A sapphire blue eye, staring up at him, the string of it's entrails tangled in his fingers. It rolled in his palm, the red veined ball laughing. Ford glared down at it, not noticing the lizard-like creature writhing in agony, holding it's face as seven eyes filled with pained filled tears and blood welled out of an empty socket. 

Ford clenched his hand around the ball, his nails digging in till it burst. A low growl escaped his throat and he dropped the mess, flicking away excess fluid. He turned and went to step down the corridor.

A tail smashed into him, slamming him against the wall. Ford dropped to his knees, chest constricting as he struggled to take in air. He heard a shriek and glanced up to see more sapphires blazing with anger. Claws trapped him, and a tail again raised to kill. 

Ford struck out a hand, jamming it around he blue iris and yanking it from its socket. There was another scream, this one louder as the creature fell onto its back and clutched its face. Ford stared down at what he held, his gaze sliding up a he caught sight of the other six. Limbs filling with purpose, he pulled himself forward and came to the lizard's head. 

He tugged out another eye, staring down at the two. There were more screams of pain and a leg kicked out, sending him crashing to the ground. Ford pushed himself to his feet, his hands supporting his weight. They were drenched in blood. Ford caught sight of the rolling eyes, coming to a stop against a few rocks. He glanced back at the creature. There were still five more. 

He stared at them. Stared at the hundreds more surrounding him. He glared in defiance, letting his gaze slip between the masses on the wall and the five in front of him. 

He dodged thrashing limbs and harvested the rest. They dropped to the ground one by one, popping under his shoe before he turned to the next. He finished, unsatisfied and more angry than ever as the screams quieted to whimpers echoing in the hall. 

"Hey! Are you okay over there?" A voice came from further down. 

Ford roused himself and moved to leave. A girl came bounding over, a pair of men stepping behind her. 

"Hey, wait a moment please. It's dangerous round her for civilian types ... ," She peetered off as she caught sight of the trembling creature, bleeding in a huddle on the ground. 

The men stared at Ford's back as he moved away, his eyes still jerking from one eye to the next as they began to swirl like water on the broken tiles all around him. Twisting between each other, shifting and rolling, like an every moving sea, each fighting for the best vantage point of Ford as they stared with sharp toothed glares. Ford crossed his arms around himself, his hands bunched into fists at his sleeves. 

"Hey, wait!" One of the men jumped across rocks and ran over, leaning against wall where the floor jutted in a slant. He came up to Ford and put a hand on his shoulder, whipping him around. "Let us - ," 

Ford hand was at his throat in a moment, flinging him against the wall. He seethed, breathing heavily out of his nose as he stared, wild eyed. The other two of his companions jumped and raced to come over. Ford lifted a fist, ready to let fly. Another one beat him to it. Two people dropped, Ford dazed with a bloodied lip, and the man rubbing his neck with a cough. His companions came up and they pulled their injured friend from Ford's reach with wary looks his way. 

A great wave of water poured in from down the hall and everyone turned in panic. It came sweeping in, not sparing a moment before knocking them off their feet and washing them down the hall. They banged against rocks and spun in a chaotic twirl as they passed more people, picking them up as they were swept along. It dropped off, slamming everyone against a far wall as the water receded. They were in the lodging part of the base, doors that led to individual rooms.

"Is everyone alright?" 

"Over here!" 

"Can someone help?" 

"I think my leg 's dislocated!"

"What's going on?" 

"I don't know."

"What happened?" 

"Question Mark. It's security system shut down. All the aliens are loose."

"What!"

"Wait - did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" 

"Everyone be quiet. I heard something. Coming from there." 

Ford picked himself up, water dripping from his hair into his face. He brushed it away, body indescribably heavy. He turned to leave and came eye to eye with two red dots. 

A round of screams broke the air and something lashed at Ford. Blaster shots heated the hall, and more cries were heard. Heavy limbs charged into Ford and he was slammed back. He landed next to someone else, blood pooling in their chest, their hand still wielding their gun. A large blue creature leaped at Ford, coming crashing down towards him. Ford grabbed the gun and fired it off, stopping the attacking monster as the force of the shot knocked it off its feet. 

Ford pulled himself up, heart pounding in his ears. The world tilted in a circle, and he stared at the innumerable gazes of the Eyes. A few thousand covered a tall thin furry alien, talons attacking a guard scrambling to get in a shot against the lightning fast creature. Ford glower and aimed. His hand bounced back in the recoil, but when he lowered it the thing was down on he ground, dead. He turned and saw half a dozen more creatures. Every pore of their body seemed covered in the laughing, gleaming eyes. They stared at Ford even as several people grappled with them. Ford tensed his shoulders and took aim. Several fell before the others took notice and went after him instead. Ford stepped back as he shot, missing as they grew closer, dodging his weapon. He tripped over a slab of rock, landing in a puddle, and stared into the heated gaze of millions of eyes shadowing over him in the form of foreign creatures. They lifted their claws and tails and pointed limbs, ready to run him through, and Ford began to tremble, frozen against the hyptnotisizing gaze. 

Shot rang off and the rest of the creatures dropped dead. Ford watched them fall, his eyes sliding from the alien's forms as their eyes seemed to close, to what had taken them down. Several guards lowered their own guns, nodding in thanks, others giving him a thumbs up or a smile. They turned away, focusing on a pained called for a little help, and to re-orientate themselves. 

Ford watched them, his vision going in and out of focus as he latched on to the eyes. They stared at him from the arms and palms and out from under the clothing of everyone around him. Ford picked himself back up, taking a few steps back till he ran into the wall. All over the ceiling and up and down everyone's skin, they stared and watched and grinned at him. Ford's face screwed up in rage and he lifted the gun, taking fire.

There were several more screams and a few people rushed to stop him. Ford stepped away, shifting his aim. They went down, more eyes closing - less eyes to  _mock_ him. He kept shooting, refusing to let them overwhelm him. They went down. All of them, one by one. They tried to run and he blasted them down, again and again and again, his hand bouncing with the recoil each time, killing as many of the eyes till no one was left. 

Ford lowered his arm. 

Above him and all around him pupils were still gleaming with humor. Ford's nostrils flared and he shouted at them, not saying anything, but yelling nonetheless. He shot with the blaster, hitting the walls - blasting the eyes - fighting to make them stop, to make them go away. He shot at all of them. Twisting his aim, shooting at what was left of the ceiling and the walls and the floor beneath him as they blinked through pools of bloodied water. He pulled the trigger, his hand bouncing against he recoil over and over and over, but they wouldn't  _leave_. 

He whipped his head around and raced down the hall, trying to get away, to lose them, but they followed and he continued shooting. More creatures came, their eyes staring him down, and other eyes littering their scales, or fur, or skin. His heart hammered in his chest and he blinked away sweat as he charged forward, trying to make them stop.

***

Stanley's body came to the door, rubble sticking between the frame of the entrance, holding the door open at an angle. Cipher pushed his way past, stepping inside the lab. He could tell something was different. It really looked like the epicenter of the chaos. Most of the rubble was pushed against the far wall, creating an oddly open space in front of the other room if it wasn't for the bits of ceiling across the floor. Yet the door still looked mysteriously closed. Cipher stepped forward, his goal so close. 

"You shouldn't have done that." 

He stopped, attention drawn to a small girl leaning against the wall. He'd missed her, only because of his single minded focus, otherwise she was in clear view. 

"Pentagram." Bill smirked, looking the purple meatsack up and down. "I don't think I've had the honor," He bowed low, then looked up, grin wide and giving her clear view of his single yellow eye showing against Stanley's form. "The name's Bill Cipher." He laughed before straightening. "And you're that little gypsie girl, right?"

"You shouldn't have possessed Stanley." She smiled up at him, green eyes flashing against a sickening sweet grin. "You've gotten yourself into quite the 'sticky' situation there." 

Cipher's smile dropped. 

"Now what's that supposed to mean?" 

Pentagram shrugged, crossing her arms. 

"What do you think?"

Cipher gritted his teeth.

"Mind your own business, brat." 

She glanced to the side, looking at the door that held what Cipher was eager to finally get his hands on. She glanced back, expression at ease.

"I'm just saying." 

Cipher took a step forward, chin jutted out, eye flashing and ready to take offense. He stopped as his foot stepped on something. He looked down. His eye caught sight of a card. His gaze followed a trail of them scattered across the ground, leading to slab of concrete from the ceiling. Underneath a pool of blood was seeping into a few of the cardstock, and it was then that Cipher noticed the arm sticking out from underneath. 

Gears clicked into place and Cipher's expression erupted into a wide grin. He peered back at Pentagram. 

"Looks like your friend bit the dust." 

He grinned even wider when the girl's smile slipped. She swallowed hard and let her eyes waver to the body. They looked on for no more than a second before she jerked her head away with a pained grimace. Cipher laughed as all facade of the girl's nonchalance faded. Liliac tears pooled, then dripped down her cheeks. Cipher couldn't help but add on to her misery. 

"So I guess you couldn't be bothered to push him out of the way? Tell him to move a little to the left? Anything?"

Her eyes dropped into black. Small green pupils floated in a sea of darkness and it bled down like tears. 

"I wouldn't have been able to stop it." 

Bill wrinkled his nose and leaned away. 

"Creep."  He broke into a grin and laughed. "Hey, but you know - that's pretty good. You'd fit right in with me and my freaks." 

She stared, like a horror show, expression dark and haunted, but she was silent. Bill rolled his eyes. 

"Alright, enough of this. I've got other things to do." He moved to enter the room with the portal cube. 

"You shouldn't." 

Bill paused. He took a moment, deciding if he should care, before flipping around to face her in frustration. 

"Well why not?" he snapped.  

She stared at him with the dark hollows eyes, but hesitated. After a moment she shook her head. 

"Nevermind," she murmured, "you wouldn't listen anyways."

Bill narrowed his eyes.

"Try me." 

Pentagram took another moment to deliberate, but decided to respond. 

"If I told you that you'd only be wasting your time?"

Bill scoffed. 

"I'd say you're full of it." 

She hung her head. 

"I know. No one listens to me. No one every bothers to take my advice. No one treats me like an adult." She bit her lip and closed her eyes, causing more tears to fall. "Almost no one," she whispered.

Cipher took step towards her. 

"You know something. Tell me. You know what I want."

"You shouldn't have possessed Stanley." 

Bill growled. He took a threatening step forward, eye dangerous. 

"Quit being so vague." he snarled. 

She back up against the wall, black eyes widening in fear, her pupils still nothing more than two small green dots. But she smiled. It didn't match her eyes, but her grin stretched despite the tears still dripping down her cheeks. 

"You're gonna fail Bill Cipher!" She giggled but it sounded off. 

Cipher ground his teeth, his face flushed with anger. 

"Alright, last chance creep." 

"And you know what? Yellow 's a stupid color." 

Cipher snatched her throat. 

"Low blow kid - ,"

She snapped her head back, struggling to yank herself away

"No w-w-wait!" 

He squeezed and she gasped. 

"Don't! Don't hurt me - please! I - I-I-I changed my mind!"

Bill smirked. 

"Oh, so you did see this coming?" He pressed tighter, almost lifting till her feet grazed the ground. 

"I-I-I - ," She choked, struggling for air. "I don't want this! Not like this!" Her eyes flashed back to their normal image, green iris's glazed in a teary sheen. She caught Cipher's eye and her struggled to break free grew stronger. "Stanley! Stanley help me! Please! I changed my mind! I don't want to die!" She tore at the fingers around her throat, her eyes closing against the pressure. 

Bill's nose wrinkled in distaste.

"You think he'd help, brat?"

Her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. 

"Stanley,  _please_." 

"You don't even know him." Bill slammed her against the wall and wrapped both hands around her neck, digging in his thumbs. 

She thrashed, but it didn't help. Her eyes grew red rimmed and she slowed her struggle to glare at Bill in helpless fear. 

"Stanley ... ," she barely whispered. " ... I'm scared." 

Cipher glowered down at her. But then his face broke into a smirk, and he snickered. 

"Actually, if you did know him," Rosie's gaze grew hazy as she began to lose consciousness, "you'd know you're not the first person he's let just die." With a laugh he added, "And you certainly wouldn't be the last!" 

She grew limp under his hands and he held her there. A minute passed. The purple skin grew pale and he let her drop to the ground. He dusted off his hands. 

Bill Cipher paused a moment, taking the time to feel inward. 

"So?" He floated to look around with a sneering grin, catching sight of the red car in the mindscape. His eye narrowed, looking for a reaction, anything to signal having gotten the Pines' attention. 

He didn't receive a word in response. Not a gesture or even a look. Bill huffed. 

"That's just cold. You didn't even  _try_ to lift a finger." He waited for something - anything - and got nothing. Bill scowled, but turned his focus back on the real world. 

There, in front of him, was everything Cipher needed. He opened the door and peered inside. 

A huge mass of swirling void stared back at him and Bill's eye stretched wide to match his grin. 

"Alright.  _Now we're talking_." He stepped inside. The portal caught him. He stretched into an abyss of time and space, and all of existence.

***

Ford came to the entrance of the lab and saw it hanging wide open. When he stepped inside - the eyes were gone. It was so sudden it almost took his breath away. His legs went weak and Ford slumped against a table. He slipped to the ground, dropping his head into his hands as he took in labored breaths. He ran his hands down his head, dropping the gun to the ground. He stared at the floor. The blissful, white tiled floor, broken with a few cracks - but no eyes. 

Ford blinked. He pulled his head up and looked around. The whole room was a mess. All the tools and furniture, and everything was pushed far from the Tessaract's room. Ford' eyes widened. It'd been activated. All of this - he stared around - was because the cube had been turned on - 

He caught sight of something else. A small, pale purple body slumped on the ground. He swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. He pulled himself to his feet and took a step forward, before he stopped. A feeling of hesitation took over. He stepped back, gaze sliding from the girl to the door, unlocked but securely shut. Anger rolled over him. That thing. That cube, that portal.  _That_ was the cause of it all. He let his eyes do a quick search of the ground and picked up a pipe. If he smashed it. Smashed that wretched cube, then no one could have it. Not Vestra. Not Cipher. 

He took purposeful steps to the door, throwing it open with unnecessary force. 

The pipe slipped out of his hand, landing with a clang. There was no cube.  He stared into a white abyss. A swirling void that seemed to own infinite depth. A certain almost 'wind' whipped through his hair, and suddenly Ford felt himself being pulled closer. He took a step back, but it tugged on his clothes. He turned around, eyes widening in fear, but his feet fall out from under him. His hands stretched out and caught on the door. It wavered, wobbling in its place, before his weight dislodged it, slamming the door shut. 

Ford's fingers slipped, and he fell into the portal. 

***

???

Ford emerged in the white space of the fourth dimension. He was bombarded by everything he couldn't understand. Familiar things in an unfamiliar setting. Sitting up they lacked meaning, even as he puzzled to make sense of it all. Taking a heavy glance around he lifted himself to his feet. A wavy haze of distortion flowed off him. Thousands of images flooded the fog. Pictures of his memories, glowing there. It was his past. His now. His future. He could see it - his time line - but had no idea what it  _meant_.

In the same way, he cast a wary glance at the chaotic setting. He could see the billions of trillions of novemnonagintillions of creatures. Living beings he knew had consciousness. They were fighting. He didn't know why. 

Then he saw Vestra. Standing on his feet his head arched up, his gaze following - and he slipped back, falling in his surprise as she appeared large and vast and impossible. She had a haze of time-line wrapped around her too, but had mutated into a larger inconceivable nature that somehow reflected her sense of self more accurate. It was grotesque and beautiful, and preposterous. She was fighting. Grinning. Throwing around her weight - and then it became clear what everyone was reaching for. 

The fifth dimension. 

A sour taste rose in Ford's mouth and it burned. He had reached nirvana and still the creatures here wanted more. Vestra wanted more. All of them. Everything. The power would never be enough. He tried to shake off the disgust before looking away. 

Bringing up his arms, he pressed his hands against his head, struggling. Just: struggling. 

A form crashed down behind him, like a galaxy exploding, causing Ford to topple in whatever was the ground, smashing his nose. He stilled against the floor, closing his eyes tight as he took in shaky breaths, overwhelmed and unwilling to acknowledge anything else. He could sense what landed, withering with a flicker of movement. The experience of feeling it without knowing forced him to push himself up just to stop himself from trembling in unwanted expectation. He dragged his eyes over - and seized into a frozen state of horror. 

The eyes. All of them - here. Greeting him. Staring at him. Looking with such contempt as they never had before. Red lines pulsing from each. Bulging. Burning. Ford's muscles screamed at the awkward way they'd clenched up. His nostrils flared, the strain in his limbs giving way to a shaky weakness, but he couldn't relax the tension building. 

The eyes' gaze wavered then went dull. Unfocused, the black lids quivered, then fell. The whole mass closed it eyes in a single last look. It stopped moving, twitching, anything - leaving nothing but a dark lump of slick oil clay. Ford frowned in utter bewilderment, gaze hovering, searching. He noticed a haze all around the shape - its time-line - and even that began to evaporate into smoke; the incomprehensible memories and possibilities vanishing. Standing as he was in the fourth dimension, Ford could still feel the smallest touch of forgetfulness creep over him as he realized his nightmare was dead - no worse. Was being ripped from all of time and space as it's very memory ceased to exit - but yes. Dead. 

Something erupted from the sea of pitch. Ford jerked, crashing onto his back, the shock of it jolting his nerves into a muddled mess. His heart beat fast and he squeezed his eyes shut again. He didn't even hope to survive this excursion - his body would give out first. Somehow, looking up he went to face the next trauma with almost resignation. 

Instead he saw a square jaw, big nose, and a lawless mess of brown hair. 

A noise eked its way from his lips. A word -  _Stanley_ , but it got muddled. Trapped. Entwined in doubt, fear, nerves, and the whole understanding that he didn't want to remember the last time he'd seen his brother. The memories came unbidden and they felt like poison. They were debilitating. They brought bile to his throat and a mist in his eyes, but he forced it down as his gaze took in his brother. 

Long slitted black resting in the hard and deep urine of it's yellow. Yellow. A yellow eye. Ford stared at Stanley and a yellow eye stared back. 

And a brown one. Both.

***

Cipher stepped away from the milky goop, flicking a shoe behind him with a small grimace. He looked up and caught sight of Stanford. Their eyes met and the already dishevled man grew into an even more shocking expression of horror. The wide owl gaze appreared behind black framed spectacles and his mouth frowned into the thinest twisted line. 

For a moment Cipher wanted to smile, but another emotion struck him. Overwhelming distaste. He felt the Eyes' remaining body dripping down his side, slopping onto the floor, reminding him what he'd just done. Cipher had just fought in a deadly battle with a fourth dimensional being. And he'd done it for the man in front of him. He'd fought it and won - all the while aware of the anger fueling him on. Of the single thought that nothing was allowed to instill the fear the Eyes had into the man with six fingers. Out of some possessiveness. But more troubling - out of a feeling to  _protect_. 

And of course he was still in Stanley Pines' body. 

Cipher stared down at Ford and had a sudden flash of consideration -  _was_ he Bill Cipher? If he'd payed attention to his time line he'd see the crude mash of the duel lives smashing together in a single synchronized stream. But he didn't have to. The conflicting emotions alone were enough to draw attention to the unsettling notion that his very state of being was very,  _very_ wrong. 

But even that was ignored. There was no point in noticing his mistake. In realizing that his connection with Stanley Pines had been too strong and he'd been unable to ditch the form as soon as he stepped into the fourth dimension. It was all too late.

Stanley Pines was left feeling weak in every way. His feet were heavy as bricks, his shoulders sagged, and his expression was a dull frown. But on the other end his clenched fists shook, his yellow eye flashed, and his brows drew down in a scowl. He felt angry and ambitious, overwhelmed and bruised, triumphant and unsatisfied, confused and ultimately tired - so, so deeply tired. 

But he wasn't in control. Not of anything. Not for a long time.

Cipher stared at Stanford who was pulling himself onto shaky legs, his gaze never leaving his brother's body. He looked visibly torn between stretching out a wavering hand and stepping back. His expression was flickering between it's wild look and a pained one that crinkled near his eyes keeping back the growing watery glaze. 

Cipher tried to bring himself to grin. To bare his teeth and step forward, no doubt tripping Stanford in the process of the man's unsteady fear. Instead his insides were troubling him as they churned. Every visceral reaction was pushing from the inside out, putting pressure on his orifices - squeezing at his eyes, making his jaw tremble, flaring his nostrils as he tried to breathe steady - but the truth was, the overwhelming emotions were crashing down and he was doing all he could to keep whatever human feelings of despair and regret at bay. 

He was still and trembling, just as when his brother had been - no Cipher - no  _Stanley_ had been -

Something crashed into the Eye's liquid corpse - a few creatures ripping into each other's time lines as they rolled by - shaking the ground beneath the brother's feet. Stanley slipped, crashing on his rear. Ford wobbled and took a knee and when the tremors subsided he looked up to see his brother hunched, holding his head in his hands. His chest was shaking with labored breaths and his eyes were squeezed shut. Closed like that Ford could only see Stanley, so broken and alone, and without thinking he moved to place a hand on his arm.

At the first sign of touch, Stanley jerked back. Wide fearful eyes stared back at a bewildered Ford, his six fingered brother his own mess of fear as he ground his teeth under a too tight clenched jaw. And it only made it worse. He didn't  _want_ to be afraid. He didn't  _want_ to shrival under the wild look in Ford's eyes, and instead willed his brother to reach out again, promising, and apologizing, and wishing it was all okay in his mind. And Ford did. He stretched his hand out, somehow only seeing the wide brown eye, and set a six fingered hand on his brother's arm. 

Stanley shocked himself with the sudden reaction. The moment their skin touched was like a blazing fire shooting across his nerves. His sense of space was overtaken by a complete loss of emotion. He couldn't control the very harsh jerk that yanked his arm back so hard it triggered a sharp lance of pain in his shoulder.  He fell, into the mound of black, his vision going dark - drowning in it all. 

***

The Axolotl had long since been a general in the greatest war all existence had ever seen. 

Affecting both time and space. All future possibility. Chaos at war with Order. A fight towards the fifth dimension.   

The Axolotl opened the bridge wide, connecting to the largest physical embodiment of the ancient symbols created to harness power. The woman had built this. Unaware. By chance. By luck of brilliance. Here she was.  

The Axolotl stared into the portals entrance - the ruins of Bleeding Heart, broken but still fit to form the circle. Question Mark - prison bars twisted and bent while human guards fought for their lives. Other creatures attacking in revenge. The woman hadn't bothered to treat any visiting individuals with the respect they deserved as living beings. She only thought to exploit what fell into the grasp of her planet. The woman, all the while staring into the fourth dimension, marveling at it's new complexities - certain to discover the new levels of reality she was able to touch and form. 

More powerful than any of the Axolotl's greatest fighters, the lower dimensional beings grew in strength as they progressed into higher levels. It was an obvious allure that had started the war to begin with.

Other symbols appeared in it's circle - the magic research library of Pentagon, Shooting Star's nursery - filled with screaming children, each scared from the sudden earthquake and attacking monsters.

The triangle would be capable of the strongest power. He should be the best orientated in this dimension - the geometric shape's understanding was impressive, even to the Axolotl. 

Instead he was struggling to leave his host body. The triangle had been easy to see, glitching as it tugged away from the human, before springing right back. Cipher should have gained a new form on entering the fourth dimension. A new body to support understanding and harmony with the different form of existence. Even the woman and the man had changed. Their time lines were easy to see - stretching out, the past to the one side, and the future on another. Scenes played, echoing like a dim borealis of possibilities. Hanging in the air for everyone to see. Exposed and unprotected.  

But Cipher's time stream was mangled. Tied up in his host's, unable to separate, too twisted together to understand where one stopped and the other began.

The irony. When Bill Cipher had been the one trying so hard - harder than the soldiers there in the fourth dimension. The effort he had put into transcending space, only to find himself stuck in some other limiting form at the hand of his own hubris.

***

Ford watched his brother fall, knowing he was the reason behind it. Of course he was. His brother was frightened of him. Because of (don't think of it. Don't think of then. Don't think of then and the eyes). Because only hours ago his body had (He couldn't stop Cipher. He couldn't stop himself. He'd - what he'd done. What had he  _done_?). And now (what? Now what? What was he going to do? What  _could_ he do?).  _Nothing_. Never anything. No matter what Ford tried. It all went wrong. He only hurt his brother. He only ever caused him (Pain. He only ever cause Stanley pain. He only ever hurt Stanley.  _Why did he always hurt him_?). 

And what about the eyes' part in that? (Dead. No worse.) What about Cipher? (Cipher. Cipher in Stanley. Possessing his brother. Possessing him?) What was this? What was the situation when he could see his brother and Cipher, and not know where one ended and the other began (He couldn't ever  _do_ anything.)

Stanley did everything. Helped him. Protected him. (Had taken out the eyes and Ford  _still_ couldn't- ) Ford  _still_ couldn't do anything for himself. He couldn't help himself no matter how much he tried. (Stanley always helped him. Always protected him.) 

Ford balled his hands into fists.  _Why couldn't Stanley ever help himself instead!_

He froze. 

Slowly his gaze traveled down to where his brother had fallen, the black so deep it looked like the bottomless pit.

Ford strode forward and plunged his hand into the goo. Ripping it back out, he held his brother by the arm. Stanley stared at him with yellow blazing eyes, anger evident. Ford could barely feel himself move. His body acted on its own as a single determined thought drove him on. 

In all of his 'big smarts' and 'genius intellect' Ford hoped he wasn't about to hurt his brother. He reached forward, not at Cipher or his brother, or whatever mash the two had created, but instead at the glowing stream of images crushed together. 

Cipher glanced down, alarm flashing in his mind, but he was unable to create a good enough reason why. Ford yanked for Cipher's time stream - intertwined with his brothers. Cipher jumped for Ford's wrist, unable to stop himself from stopping Ford. He only felt fear. Ford grabbed it - touched it.  _Held it_  with his bare hands. The memories felt like mucus silk, but he searched for two images he knew couldn't be from the same person. Couldn't be from Cipher. Couldn't be from Stanley. He found them and dug his fingers in deep. All six of them, tearing into the stream like nubby claws. 

Cipher's scream made Ford jump, almost leaping out of his skin. He lost his balance, almost letting go of the stream as his pulled it down with him, ripping the line even further. Trembling, Ford glanced up to see his brother's face twisted in pain. But it glared at him, two eyes a deep yellow and full of fury. Ford was pale. He didn't want to hurt his brother anymore than he had. He didn't know if he was only making things worse again. But he desperately needed to do something against his own monster. Against Cipher. He'd gotten Stanley into this and he needed to do something for once that would get him out. 

If Stanley could only find it in himself to help Ford, then Ford needed to help Stanley. They needed to help each other when they couldn't help themselves. 

Ford pulled himself onto legs he couldn't feel, but they looked so shaky he was surprised he could stand. Glancing down he steeled himself and pulled on the stream further. Cipher's scream made Ford's head jerk up. Stan's body was doubled over in pain. Doubts crept into him. He took a step back. 

Cipher glitched. 

Ford paused, looking - not sure what he was feeling, but a mounting sense of horror seemed apt. Cipher glanced up to glare at him, then glitched - a triangle jerking out of Stan's body before being thrust back in. Not even looking down, Ford gave the stream another tug. A sound of ripped thread then breaking glass, and Cipher looked half melted into his brother. Cipher's single eye jumped around, zooming at odds till it landed on Ford. His figure grew an odd shade of red and two black arms ripped themselves from Stan's body. 

Ford couldn't keep himself from breathing hard, but this time he didn't feel like himself. He glanced at his brother, hunched over as the demon tried to work its way out of his back before glitching and bouncing back. With a determination he never could have achieved trying to protect himself, Ford yanked on the thread of his brother's time line some more, dragging it away from Cipher's. 

Cipher pushed himself up, looking as if he were reaching from out from a grave. Like some undead monster with its single red eye set on Stanford, waiting to be free so it could tear into his flesh. 

Ford looked from the stream to Cipher. He pulled at the time line and Cipher was the one who could be heard screaming in pain, his single eye closing as he shook his head with violent thrashing. But Ford thought of everything he'd done to them. The lies. The back handed deals. What he'd put his brother through. After everything he'd done to Ford - what he'd ever done to Stanley was worse. It was the tipping point. It turned Ford's blood an ice cold and set on revenge. 

Tossing the line down, Ford stepped over to finish the job. Cipher paused only a moment in confusion before Six fingered hands grabbed him by both sides and yanked. The resulting separation was strong enough to fling Stanley and Cipher apart, their streams coming untangle in a miraculous swirl, so easy it was laughable. 

But Ford was still holding on. And as the smoke cleared, Stanley laid on the ground and pulled his heavy eyes up to see. The world was mostly a haze, but Ford was turning, exposing the image of an awakening Cipher stuck between his grip. If Stan squinted he would of seen the utter hatred in his brother's face. 

Cipher did. He blinked his single eye open to see the fire in Stanford's eyes. He only had time long enough to shrink his pupil in a small moment of fear before a searing pain blistered across his surface. Ford jammed his thumbs into the center of the demon, pushing with all the force of his misplaced fury and anger. Cipher screamed again, his arms flailing, catching on Ford's wrist, jumping to push the hands away again and again as they slipped off in his agony. Ford didn't relent. He pushed harder against the whites of Cipher's eye, shoving the thumbs deep into the triangle. 

The shape gave way. There was a sound of shattering metal. Ford broke straight through Cipher's center, creating cracks that splintered across the brick surface. It seemed as if the entire universe held its breath. 

Cipher began dissolving into dust. 

No noise followed. His time line swirled into a soot cloud of images and drifted off like ash, the demon's form obliterated from the fourth dimension. Removed from it altogether. 

Ford looked down into his hands. He flexed his fingers as yellow sand trickled down between all six. Next his legs gave way. He dropped to his knees, numb. Behind him Stanley stopped staring as weariness seeped into him. He closed his eyes, bowing his head in exhaustion, not caring for the tears dripping through when he couldn't feel that sadness or pain anymore anyways. Ford pulled his head over his shoulder to look at him. 

He'd done something. He'd finally done something. But it all still felt so broken. 

***

Vestra was powerful. She reigned supreme. She could feel the energy and strength coursing through her limbs, and it made her feel victorious. 

The feeling of danger grazed the hairs on her neck. A cool breeze that whispered warning. She turned around to look. 

An explosion. A wave of energy, almost nuclear in size. It cascaded from some circle - the wheel. She looked and saw her old home. Her planet. The base. 

Her eyes widened, and she turned, scrambling to flee. She shoved creature after creature out of her way, struggling to use her new abilities as an advantage. The riptide of energy gained on her, washing past everyone and dissolving them and their time lines from existence. Vestra glanced back, anger overtaking fear. She had come so far. She had sacrificed so much. 

Something tripped under her feet. She looked down to see a small being struggle to get back up and run. With a snap of her fingers she ended its existence - a petty revenge for slowing her down. Bitterness began seeping in. She looked at the wave and realized she couldn't outrun it. She was going to die. 

No, worse. She was never going to exist. 

She glared past the rippling waters, towards the wheel - towards the creature floating safely in the eye of the storm. Guarded at the center of it all. The Axolotl. 

Vestra closed her eyes - thinking of the fifth dimension. 

Then thinking of the third. 

***

Ford looked up and stared into the face of a giant wave of energy. 

He looked to his brother then glanced around for some desperate solution. There was none. Fourth dimensional beings ran. There were no exits. He couldn't think of any abilities. No last minute escape. He looked back to Stanley. His brother looked finished. Ford ... felt finished. 

He dropped his head. 

The Zodiac wiped the slate clean.

***

The Axolotl noted: for perhaps the first time in over a dozen millenia, his void was silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue now. It's already there.


	12. Chapter 12

The Axolotl sighed. Along the way there were so many holes. 

He turned, gracefully swaying in the ocean void till he faced his mirror into the universe. 

First was the incident of Stanford Pines meeting Stanford Pines. The salamander arranged for the two individuals to maintain a paradox relationship without the entire dimension imploding throughout the duration of their contact. And then - another sigh - Stanley Pines meeting Stanley Pines. Another paradox. The sheer stress of it was difficult, but the Axolotl managed it. 

Feeling both smug, and sufficiently humble for how little the Axolotl knew it mattered in any grand scheme of things, they moved on. 

Stanford Pines was arranged to have a portal appear in front on him while wondering on his own. The portal was well placed with a sufficient gap for the scientist to arrive in Bleeding Heart Military Base and have time to work on the Tesseract before the moment everything came to a head. 

After that - the future needed settling as well. 

The Axolotl plucked an object out of time and space. Journal One was retrieved, the object's use well in its expiration. It's new purpose was to be found back on the Planet Earth the Pines brothers originated from. Under the pillow of a little girl who would read about the tales of her two long lost uncles. This women would move to Gravity Falls - drawn there as she became more and more obsessed with her book - long before she would have twins of her own. Around the same time she earned a degree in theoretical physics, as well as engineering. The perfect concoction for what she discovered in the basement of a cabin in the woods. 

***

Rosie woke to the feeling of soft sheets and a quiet, moderately air conditioned room of approximately 23.8 degrees Celsius. Breaking into consciousness the first thing she did was suck in a gasp of air, sudden shock overwhelming her. 

Rosie's eyes burst open wide. She looked around to see the surprising familiarity of her room in Pentagram. She was supposed to be dead. 

Rosie blinked. 

She didn't know why she thought that. Just knew that she did. With a surety and conviction that unparalleled anything else in her mind. She was supposed to be lying somewhere. Deader than dead. But after a moment of taking in deep breaths, and still staring around her room with a numb disbelief, the feeling faded. Maybe it was just a bad dream. 

Following her routine, Rosie made her way out and into the study. Her eyes watched her feet take each step, counting the tiles as she went. Then looking up she saw Isaac testing some magic properties. The feeling from early slammed into her without so much as a warning. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she raced to Isaac, crashing into him and engulfing him in a hug. 

He stumbled back then looked down, confused and a little worried. 

"Rosie? Is everything alright?" 

Rosie clung tighter, but swallowed hard and nodded. 

"I - I-I-I think so." She held on, not sure why she felt so relieved and happy, but in such a bittersweet way. Letting go, she wiped her face, but her eyes caught on a poster plastered to the wall. 

It read - Vote! Nathaniel for Senator!

The thought popped into her head. 

"Isaac, you should run for Senator." 

Isaac looked down at her and couldn't keep from laughing at the idea. 

Rosie could only think for another moment that she should in all certainty be dead. 

***

Vestra Doer had had so many opportunities, that in the Axolotl's eyes, she got no second chances. The salamander wasn't a cruel being, but they certainly weren't fair. 

Stanley Pines on the other hand, had made a deal. It was time the Axolotl made good on their end of it.

***

They were running for their lives. The small city was being invaded by slave traders, ready to take the people and sell them as commerce. Stanley gripped Ford's sleeve as his brother led the way.

Stan's slowly returning sight made travel much easier, but it was still a challenge to scramble over rocks and other loose debree as they made their way along.

All around them floating spaceships used their blue light tractor beems to whisk their victims off the ground and into their prisons within. Stan had to concentrate hard on looking at the ground beneath him instead of focusing on the chaotic screams that echoed from behind. If the two brothers wanted to make it out of there they had to focus on the path in front of them.

But in Stan's effort to block out the noise, he lost his concentration and tripped. Ford quickly stopped and leaned over him. Stan felt his brother's hand take his and tug at him to get up. He heard the words that his brother wanted to yell fall flat in his lips. Ford couldn't speak, but his frantic jesters were clear enough.

Stan scrambled to his feet and they kept going.

Soon they saw the blue light above their heads. Quickly Ford pulled them out of the way and they summersaulted to the side as the beam closed in. The two of them scrambled to their feet once again and made a break for the trees infront of them. They knew they'd be safer in the density of the forest. Ford had Stan's arm and they kept making their way onward.

The light came above them once more. They jumped out of the way and Stan heard the crackling energy go off behind him.

He was breathing heavily, his heart racing, but he got to his feet. They were so close. Only a few meters till they reached the green cover of the trees.

Looking around he saw blurred shapes moving at impossible speeds. People were starting to get the idea and we're heading their way. The ships in the air wizzed by as they picked up one unfortunate soul after another. Stan focused on his brothers movements, counting on his hand to guide him.

Thoughts bombarded his mind, but he forced them away and concentrated on the moment. He focused his attention on the dim shapes littering the ground. He focused on the sway of their movements and the sounds of their steps as they ran. He could even start to see the outlines of larger rocks and some sticks as they passed by. Ford had a steel grip on his arm and was intent on the shrubbery infront of them. They both skirted the sandy landscape and made their way to desert trees growing infront of them.

Then Stan felt nothing.

He tripped with the sudden loss of support and stumbled the last few feet into the trees. He heard a crackling noise behind him and smelt the burning power of energy. Quickly his eyes flicked across his surroundings.

"Ford!" He yelled. His chest seized in fear of the worst. 

A firm hand gripped his arm. Six fingers grabbed his shirt and pulled him on. Relief crashed down on Stan, and he kept moving. Stanford was still besides him. 

They made their way deeper into the trees.

***

The Axolotl looked around. The void was so empty. After massacring everyone, that tended to be the result. The salamander turned and floated away. 

Maybe it was time for another century long nap. 

***

Stanford sat in front of the flame, their fire dim. He was grasping at some thought. Some fear he couldn't quite remember. After a while he shook his head. There wasn't a point in making himself worry.  But he still stared into the red embers, his thoughts heavy. Glancing up, he looked over at his brother. Stanley was listening to the strange song of a native bird. He looked content, if not too peaceful. 

Stanford felt burdened. Out of nowhere, he felt the sudden need to relieve himself of it. He closed his eyes warring with himself. And then, feeling as if it mattered more than anything else before, Ford prepared to do something he wasn't sure he ever would. 

"S-S-Stanley ... ," he whispered. 

Stan cocked his head back Ford's way, sitting up straighter at the tone of his brother's voice. 

"What's wrong Sixer?" 

Ford took in a shaky breath. 

"I need to - to tell you something." He put a hand against his cheek, warm with anticipation and fear, then slid it down to rub at his neck. For some reason the thought came to him that this time he'd do it right. "A-a-about ... ," Ford squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists before taking the plunge. "Bill Cipher." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin


End file.
